


Love in the Dark

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old nemesis has it out for the Seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #8. This is the slash version of the M7 story "Shot in the Dark."

**_ **Comments [1]** _ **

 

 

 

**Saturday, late morning**

The heavy metal door, set in a thick wooden wall, swung shut behind him, latching with a loud _clang_.  He hunched his shoulders against the echoing sound and continued walking, knowing that the gazes of the guards followed his every step.

Out in front of the gates, his two friends waited for him, one holding the reins of his horse.  He took those reins and swung up into his saddle without saying a single word.

He twisted the horse's head roughly around and spurred the gelding into a hard gallop, the two brothers who had been waiting for him following close behind.

When he finally pulled back on the bay's reins, slowing the gelding to a walk, one of the brothers asked, "Well, did ya see her, Caleb?"

"Yeah, I saw her," the young man replied, staring straight ahead at the trail.

"She all right?" the other sibling asked, casting his brother a nervous glance.

Caleb flashed the young man an angry look.  "Hell, no, she ain't 'all right.'  She's in prison; probably gonna die in that hellhole.  Probably soon, too.  She's got a cough that sounds bad, real bad."

The two brothers dipped their heads and studied the dusty trail, not wanting to rouse the young man's ire any further.  He could be dangerous when riled.

"What, uh…  What did she want t' see ya for?" the youngest of the two brothers finally ventured several minutes later.

Yanking back on the reins, Caleb halted his bay and sighed heavily.  "She wanted me t' make her a promise, Glen."

"A promise?" the young man echoed.  "What kind 'a promise, Caleb?"

"That I'd go after the fellas who killed my brother and put her in that prison," he said, looking pointedly from one brother to the other.  "She made me promise to kill Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee."

"Ya gonna do it?" the eldest of the Ellerby boys asked him, half-excited and half-scared by the prospect.

"Hell, Sam, ya know I can't say no to Mama," Caleb Quince replied.  "But I'm goin' t' need you boys' help to do it."

"How ya gonna kill them men?" inquired the younger of the two brothers.  "They're dangerous, Caleb.  You saw what they done to the Warden and your bro–"

"Shut your yap, Glen," Sam snapped at his younger sibling.  "Don't be bringin' that–"

"Mama told me what t' do," Caleb assured them.  "She told me _exactly_ what t' do.  Yessiree, we're gonna be smart and make 'em pay.  All of 'em… Larabee, Tanner, and their whole damned gang, too.  They ain't gonna get away with killin' my only brother and puttin' my ma in prison."  He looked pointedly at the Ellerbys.  "An' you two _are_ gonna help me.  Ya just follow my orders, and it'll be all right, you'll see.  Ma's smart, smarter 'n those regulators."

The brothers shifted uncomfortably in their saddles, but they nodded their agreement.  Caleb was dangerous, too, and they didn't want to cross him.

"Won't be hard if we do what Mama told me," Caleb said, then gigged his gelding with his spurs, sending the bay back into a lope.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

**Five days later, a Thursday**

**Four Corners**

JD sat in a chair on the boardwalk, out in front of the sheriff's office, playing checkers with Casey.  She had already beaten him three out of four games and he was looking for _any_ excuse he could find to escape another trouncing.  And two strangers – both of them close to his age – riding into town were just the ticket.

"Who are they?" the young woman asked, watching JD study the two strangers intently as they went by.  "You recognize 'em from some wanted posters?"

"No, but I don't know 'em, either," JD told her.  "Guess I better go find out who they are, what they want."

          Casey frowned.  "You think they're lookin' for trouble?  You think maybe they're two of them cowboys who've been roustin' the settlers?"

          "Won't know 'til I talk to 'em, now will I?" JD snapped at the young woman.  The words came out a little harsher than he'd intended and he saw the hurt they caused cross her face.  "Sorry," he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes.

She shot him a feisty look, snapping, "You just don't like gettin' beat by a girl, JD Dunne."

The young sheriff rolled his eyes.  "It ain't that, Casey," he lied.  "Besides, I was just lettin' you win–"

"Lettin' me win?" Casey interrupted, her eyes rounding with anger.  "You are such a– a… _man_ ," she concluded disgustedly, then stood and stomped off in a huff, muttering to herself the entire way.

JD watched her go, sighing loudly.  He was _never_ going to understand that girl.  Never.  He shook his head and glanced back to see where the two strangers were headed, but they were still making their way down the dusty thoroughfare.

He stepped out into the street, following the pair, who finally pulled up outside the Standish Tavern.  Hurrying across the street, he caught the pair before they stepped into the Standish Tavern.

"Howdy, boys," he greeted them, smiling a little.

          The pair turned to JD, both smiling back.  "Do we know you?" the older of the two young men asked him.

          "JD Dunne," he replied.  "I'm the sheriff here."

          "The sheriff?" the younger boy echoed.  "Ya ain't old enough t' be no sheriff, JD Dunne."

          JD frowned.  The comment would have made him mad under normal circumstances, but the boy had sounded more earnest than condescending.  He flipped up his lapel to show them his star.  "I'm older than I look," he explained.

          "Well then, what can we do for ya, Sheriff?" the older boy asked him then.

          "I just like to, uh, meet strangers who come to town," JD said.  "Been havin' some trouble with some cowboys…  They've been botherin' the farmers around here."

          "We ain't no cowboys, Sheriff," the younger of the two men said.  "We don't know nothing 'bout that."

          "My brother's right," the older boy agreed.  "We're just passin' through; plannin' on headin' up north to Wickenburg.  Heard there might be some jobs up that way – fightin' Injuns."

          JD nodded, lifting his hand so he could touch the brim of his bowler.  "Well then, boys, enjoy your stay in town.  And good luck to you."

          "Hey, Sheriff, ya heard 'a any safer work 'round these parts?" the younger man asked hopefully.  "Our stake could use some buildin' up 'fore we head up t' Wickenberg."

          JD thought for a moment, but shook his head and said, "Don't know of anything myself, but you boys can check with Mrs. Travis over at the _Clarion_ office.  She might know about something.  She puts out the newspaper.  Might be an ad in there you could check on."

With that JD turned to leave, but the younger man stopped him, asking, "Sheriff, uh, ya mind if I ask where you're goin'?"

          JD turned back, looking a little wary.  "Got to walk my rounds, why?"

          The young man smiled, his expression eager and open.  "Mind if I come along with ya?  I ain't never seen how a sheriff does his job.  Might want to try it some time, maybe get me a job as a deputy up there in Wickenburg.  Reckon it'd be safer 'n fightin' Injuns."

          JD puffed up some.  "Well, guess it couldn't do any harm," he said.  "Sure, come along if you want to.  But I have to tell ya, it's not very exciting – most of the time, anyway."

          "Sam, ya go on without me, I'm gonna go with the Sheriff," the younger boy told his brother.

          "All right," Sam replied with a shrug.  "I'll be in the saloon when ya get back."  He turned and stepped through the batwing doors.

          "I'm Glen Ellerby," the young man said, sticking out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Glen," JD replied, shaking the boy's proffered hand.

"So, how long ya been a sheriff?"

"Well, that's kind of a complicated answer," JD said as they started off together.

"I got plenty of time," Glen replied attentively.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A short time later, Vin walked into the saloon and headed straight to the bar where Inez stood, drying a stack of just-washed glasses.  She smiled at him and paused to pour him a shot, sliding it onto the bar top just before he reached her.

          "Thank y', Inez," he said, his voice low and raspy.  He picked up the drink and carried it over to the table where Chris relaxed with Buck, Ezra and Josiah.

A small smile curled the corners of his mouth as he remembered the night before last.  He and Chris had been able to slip away to a private little spot he'd found.  Larabee had taken him there, under the stars, slowly and deeply…

Tanner huffed out a breath and chased the memory away lest he embarrass himself by reaching the table in a state of arousal.

Sitting down with the three men, the tracker took a sip of his drink and said, "Cowboys hit the Prachet place.  Burned down the barn an' killed three sows in the hog pen."

"Damn," Buck sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.  "Four days, four barns burned," he grumbled, shaking his head.  The news wasn't going to help improve the mood of the local inhabitants, which meant the peacekeepers were in for an earful.

          "Guess we should've expected this," Larabee said.  "Can't expect James and Royal and the other ranchers to just roll over and give up without fightin' back from time to time."

          "Question is," Josiah rumbled, "what're we going to do about it?"

          "Well, we simply cannot keep a watch over every house, hovel, and hog pen scattered about the Territory," Ezra said and began to shuffle the cards he'd been fingering.

          "Nope," Vin agreed with him, "but they've been hittin' the folks out northwest 'a town harder 'n the rest, mostly the ones out 'long Apache Creek.  Figger they might try the Spencer or Nobel place next.  We c'n watch them two, see if these boys show up t' do some mischief… maybe find out who they's workin' for."

          Chris nodded his agreement, his gaze sliding over Tanner's body for a moment before he spoke.  "Buck, take JD and Nathan and head out to the Nobels'."  He glanced across the table.  "Josiah, you and me can watch the Spencer place."

          The former preacher nodded.

          "I c'n go with ya," Vin said, looking a little annoyed about being left out of Larabee's plans.

          Chris shook his head.  "You were out all last night, and most of yesterday, too.  You stay here, get some sleep.  We'll make sure the cowboys don't bother those families."

          Vin looked like he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged one shoulder and nodded.  "This last time they hit jus' after dawn."

          "Late at night, before first light, just after dark, and now just _after_ sun-up?  Hell, can't they make it a _little_ easy?" Buck groaned.

          "Mr. Larabee!" someone called from the doorway.

          Chris looked up and saw Mr. Riley gesturing for him.  He immediately stood and started for the man, the other peacekeepers rising and following him to see what had the usually unflappable wheelwright sounding so concerned.

As the gunslinger reached the batwing doors, Patrick Riley pointed and said, "Looks like another fire, Mr. Larabee – Corrigan place, from the looks of it."

"Damn it," Larabee hissed, then snapped at the other over his shoulder, "Get the rest of the boys.  Let's ride!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The seven peacekeepers rode into the well-tended yard of Darcy Corrigan's farm, drawing up their horses.  Corrigan and his family were standing on the porch, watching as their barn continued to burn.

          "Did you see them?" Chris asked the farmer.

          Darcy shook his head.  "Heard the horses and came out to see what was going on…"  He trailed off, shaking his head.  "We got the stock out, and the wagon, but that was all."

          "There were at least five of 'em," Mrs. Corrigan said, wiping her tears away with the hem of her apron.  "They was laughin' and carryin' on while they rode out…"

          "Chris, I got tracks!" Vin called, and they were off again, the tracker in the lead as they hunted for the men.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Almost an hour later, Vin raised his hand, signaling the others to stop.  He slid off his black gelding, walked over, and squatted down, carefully studying the tracks he saw on the ground.  They told him a story, and it was one he wasn't enjoying.

          Chris dismounted as well, carefully joining the tracker.  "What do you see?" he asked Tanner.

          "They split up here," Vin replied, then, pointing to the signs as he added, "Three of 'em goin' east… two south, back toward town… an' one's headed north.  That sound strange t' ya?"

          Chris scowled.  "Yeah, that's six riders.  Mrs. Corman said there were five."

Vin nodded.  "One of 'em was waitin' here fer the others, the one headed north."  Frowning, he raised his head and gazed out at the desert landscape.  "Might 'a split up fer 'nother reason," he said, adding softly, "might be plannin' an ambush."

          "Ambush?" Ezra asked from where he still sat on his horse.  "Out here?"

          "Plenty places t' hide," Vin told the gambler.  "Washes, rises, few hills…"

          "And the ranchers have reason enough ta bushwhack us," Buck tossed in, then grinned and added, "We have been a burr under their saddles for quite a while now."

          "But what set 'em off?" Nathan asked the others.  "Why start burnin' barns now?"

          "Maybe if we can find one of these cowboys, we can ask him," Chris said.

          "The one heading north," Josiah said, "isn't that toward James' spread?"

          "And Royal's place is southeast of here," Buck added.  "Them groups goin' east and south could veer off and head back to his place with no trouble at all."

          Vin stood as he said, "Could be they're headed back t' the big ranches, or could be it's someplace else.  Won't know fer sure if we don't follow 'em an' find out."

          Chris thought for a moment and then said, "Let's see if we can't catch up with the pair headed back toward town."

Larabee mounted, Vin doing the same a moment later.  They set out again, Tanner leading the way for several more minutes before the tracker called for another halt.

          "What is it?" Chris asked him, his gaze sweeping over the landscape, looking for that possible ambush.

          "Don't like the feel of it," Vin said softly, shaking his head.  "Give me a bit t' scout some, see if there's any surprises waitin' fer us."

          Larabee looked like he might argue, heartily disliking the thought of Vin being out there all alone, but then he nodded.  "Don't take too long," he warned the man, "or we'll come lookin' for you."

          "Just as long as it takes," the tracker replied with a small smile, heading out alone.  Seeing in the man's green eyes how much Chris cared about him always left him with a warm feeling in his chest.

          "Watch your back," Chris called after him.

          "Maybe one of us should go along with him," Buck said a few moments later.

          "Vin can move faster and quieter without one of us taggin' along," Chris replied, but his worried expression didn't match the confidence in his voice.

          "How long are we gonna wait?" JD asked hesitantly a couple of minutes later.

          Then the six men heard gunfire.

          "Waited long enough," Buck replied, jerking his gray's head around and touching his heels to the animal's flanks.

          "Damn it," Larabee hissed, kicking his gelding into a hard gallop as well, all of them heading off in the direction of the shots.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Reaching the ongoing gun battle, the six regulators slid out of their saddles and scrambled for cover, their horses squealing and racing away from the danger as soon as their riders were off their backs.

Not far in front of them, Vin lay on the ground, sheltered by an outcrop of rocks that looked far too small to really protect the tracker, but Tanner was managing to hold back several shooters who were raining lead down on him, and then others, as they arrived upon the scene.

          "Vin!" Chris called.  "Ya hit?"

          "'M fine!" the tracker yelled back.  "Looks like them three headed east changed their minds!  Seen five so far."

          Frantic seconds passed by, cowboys and peacekeepers all struggling to find a shot that would do some damage to their enemy.  A yelp from JD brought Nathan out from behind the rocks where he had taken shelter.  Buck and Josiah gave the healer cover as Jackson made his way to JD's side.

Dropping down beside their youngest member, the healer asked, "Where?"

          JD fired again and then turned to look at the black man, blood running freely down one cheek.  "Bullet nicked the top of the rock – piece of that hit me.  I think."

          Nathan nodded, knowing the cut could wait.  He caught sight of a man darting out from behind a rocky outcrop, heading for a wash, and fired, JD's gun echoing his by no more than a second.  The man grunted and pitched forward into the dust, struck by both bullets.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Chris caught sight of Vin as the tracker began crawling on his belly up the side of a short embankment, and he wondered what in the world Tanner was doing.  A cold fist of fear squeezed his heart and he almost called out to the man, but then he looked from where the tracker was to the others, still fighting, and spotted Buck.  He looked back to the top of the rise just in time to see Tanner taking down a man who had been trying to get a bead on Buck or Josiah, who were fighting side by side.

When he looked back to the ladies' man and the preacher, he saw another, more immediate threat to the two men's safety.

          "Buck, get down!" Larabee yelled, coming up into a half-crouch to fire at the cowboy edging up undetected behind Wilmington.  But, even as his finger began to squeeze the trigger, Chris was caught around the shoulders and carried to the ground, his Colt going off on the way down, the sound unnaturally loud to the gunslinger's ears.

As he fell, all motion slowed, and Chris saw a flash of tan hide-coat and started blue eyes an instant before he struck the ground and rolled, trying to get away from his attacker, but the man stuck with him, pinning him and raising his gun to finish Larabee off.

A moment later Chris heard another too-loud shot, and the man who was about to blow his head off toppled off his chest.

          Chris jerked his head around to find Ezra standing near by.  "Nice shot," he said as a thank you.

          "A fortunate accident, I assure you," the gambler replied, but his gold tooth flashed as he moved off.

          Several more shots rang out in the desert before silence finally settled over the landscape.  Slowly, the peacekeepers emerged from their cover.  Nathan checked the three men lying scattered in the rocks, then glanced around, asking, "Where's the other two?"

          "One's over here," Chris said, nodding to the dead man lying on the ground beside him, then he glanced over to where he'd seen Vin attack that cowboy a few moments earlier.  He frowned and glanced around, taking in what was happening – Nathan, climbing the hill; Buck and Josiah, already gathering the bodies; Ezra, brushing the dust from his red-velvet coat; and JD, bleeding, but still on his feet, rounding up their horses.

"Vin?" he called, that icy hand of fear returning to squeeze his heart when there was no immediate reply.  "Vin!" he tried again, louder, more demanding, the image of wide blue eyes flashing through the gunslinger's mind. He began to shake.

          "Up here!" Nathan called from the top of the rise.  "He's been hit!"

          Larabee felt the world around him tilt slightly and he stumbled forward several steps, gulping in air as he suddenly found himself breathless.  And then Buck was beside him, his expression worried.

"Ya hit, stud?" the ladies' man asked him, reaching out to grab his arm and keep him on his feet.

          Chris shook his head, unable to force a single word past the fear that was closing his throat, nearly strangling him.  He was grateful when Buck stayed with him on the climb up to the top of the rise, unsure if he could have made it on his own, his legs too wobbly.

          And there at the top of the incline, lying on the ground, blood pooling under and alongside his head, was Vin Tanner.

          "Is he–?" JD started to ask, but he couldn't finish the question.

          Nathan lifted his head from where he'd had his ear pressed to the tracker's chest, saying, "He's still breathin', but his heart's beatin' fast and weak."  Then with a careful, gentle touch, he turned Vin's head to the side and parted the man's blood-soaked hair with his fingers to reveal the wound.  He frowned, parting back more hair and then probed the wound with his finger, his eyes closed in concentration.

          "Nathan?" Josiah asked softly after several long seconds passed in silence.

          The healer's eyes opened and he grinned shakily as he looked up at the older man.  "It's just a graze.  Don't feel like the bone's fractured either."  Looking back down at Tanner, he reached out and tapped the man's cheek, calling, "Vin?  Vin, can ya hear me?"

When he got no response, Nathan carefully slipped his hands behind the tracker's neck, checking for any broken bones there.  "His neck feels all right, too," he muttered, more to himself than to the others.  He fingers moved up under Vin's head.  "Ah…  Damn," he sighed, grimacing.

          "What is it, Mr. Jackson?" Ezra asked him, kneeling down beside the healer.  "Can I be of any assistance to you?"

          Jackson shook his head.  "He's got a good-sized knot on the back of his head.  It's bleedin' up a storm, too."

          Vin moaned then, his feet starting to move sluggishly in the dirt.

          "Help me," Nathan snapped at the others.  "Keep him still as ya can."

Ezra, Josiah, and Buck were immediately beside him, holding Vin down as the tracker regained consciousness and immediately started to fight.

          "Easy, Vin, easy," Buck soothed.  "Take it easy, pard.  It's all over.  Just lay still and let Nathan have a good look at ya."

          "Buck?" Vin rasped, his brow furrowing.  "Wha–?  What happened?"

          "Those damned cowboys set a better trap than we expected," was the ladies' man's reply.

          "Cowboys?" Vin moaned, flinching as Nathan pulled him up into a sitting position and set to work cleaning the two wounds on his head.

          "All in good time, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said.  "I would be more than happy to regale you with descriptions of the entire incident, including my own timely arrival to Mr. Larabee's aid, but I'm afraid that will have to wait until we are back in what passes for civilization in these parts."

          Vin made a face and muttered, "What'd he say?"

          "He'll tell you all about it… later," Josiah translated.  "For now, you just rest easy, and let Nathan do his work."

          Vin nodded slightly, a flash of pain crossing his face before his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

          Nathan glanced up and, seeing Larabee's pale face, said, "Probably better if he's not awake for the ride back to town.  His head's got to be poundin' something fierce and the ride would just make it worse if he's awake…"

          But Chris knew unconsciousness and head injuries were a bad combination and wanted to say so, but he held his tongue.  There was no use asking for trouble.

He stood, watching as Nathan began to bandage Vin's head, wishing he could go to the tracker, hold him, but he knew that was impossible.  He sighed softly and set out to help the others instead, forcing himself not to glance in Vin's direction too many times lest he raise the suspicions of the men who had become like brothers to him.  He couldn't help but wonder how quickly their friendships might vanish if they ever learned the truth about his relationship with Vin, and that thought saddened him more then he'd expected.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The ride back to Four Corners was made in silence, and it passed as quickly as Nathan would allow.  Larabee rode with Vin on the tracker's big black gelding, holding the injured man in the saddle.  At least no one had questioned him when he'd volunteered to ride with Tanner earlier.

Holding the tracker tightly to his chest to keep him in the saddle, Chris could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, the cold fear that had settled there still refusing to release its hold on him.  Occasionally he dipped his head and spoke softly into Tanner's ear.

"Hang on, Vin…  For what it's worth, I'm gonna get you home.  You're gonna be fine, ya hear me?  Just hang in there…"

First Josiah and then later, Buck, offered to spell him as the ride wore on, but he refused both men's offers.

Once they reached Four Corners, Josiah dismounted and took the tracker from Larabee's arms, carrying the smaller up the stairs to the clinic, JD and Nathan trailing behind him.

Chris watched them go, wishing he could go with them as well, but he didn't dare.  They had strategy to plan.  The men who had set this all in motion were going to pay for what had happened to Vin, he would see to that.

          So Buck, Ezra, and Chris headed for the saloon.  And, a few minutes later, Josiah joined them at their usual table.

Inez, seeing their concerned expressions, and the conspicuous absence of Nathan, Vin, and JD, pulled down a bottle of higher quality whiskey and carried it over to the table, returning a few moments later with seven glasses on a tray that she set down, transferring the glasses to the table.  Then, looking at Buck she asked softly, "And the others?"

          The ladies' man offered her a half-sad smile and replied, "Nathan's looking after Vin and JD.  The kid's got a cut on his cheek that's gonna need a few stitches."

          She waited for a moment, and then inquired worriedly, "And Señor Vin?"

          Ezra replied this time, telling her, "He was… grazed."

          "Where?" she pressed, the despondent look in Chris's green eyes chilling her so much she shivered despite the heat of the day.

          "Head," Josiah said softly.  "But he woke up when we got him into the clinic.  Nathan thinks he'll be all right in a few days."

          She let out the breath she'd been holding and silently thanked God for the good news.  "I'll bring you all something to eat," she said, then returned to the bar for a moment before disappearing into the back to fix them a meal.  She knew they had missed breakfast, so she made sure there was plenty to go around.

          Larabee reached for the bottle first, filling four of the seven glasses.  He paused, staring at the last three, his hands shaking slightly, and then set the bottle back down.

          The men each reached for their drinks, gulping them down in single swallows.  Chris refilled his glass, and tossed that one down as well.

          "Easy there, stud," Buck cautioned, watching Larabee with a worried frown as the gunslinger filled his glass for the third time.  The man hadn't said more than a single word, and then only in response to a direct question since Nathan had told them Vin had been shot.

          Chris's head came up, an angry gaze pinning Wilmington.  "Ain't your business, Buck," he said softly.

          The ladies' man's frown deepened, but he shrugged.

          Chris tipped his glass back for a third time, emptying that one as well.

          Buck glanced at Josiah and Ezra.  The former preacher shrugged slightly, and Ezra's eyebrow jumped up just slightly in the expression of a shrug of his own.

          Silence descended around the table.

          Several minutes later, JD arrived, his face clean, two stitches holding the cut closed.  Buck grinned at the sight, knowing the young sheriff would milk all the sympathy he could out of Casey while he was still had them.

          JD slipped into one of the three remaining chairs, then took an empty glass and poured himself a shot.  He took a swallow, wincing as the liquor burned a path down to his belly.

          "How is our valiant tracker faring?" Ezra asked the boy.

          "Nathan was workin' on him when I left.  But he said he thought Vin would be all right."  He looked at Larabee a little anxiously, then added, "I think he was hopin' Vin would wake up again."

          Chris reached for the bottle again, but this time Buck reached out and stopped him, his hand on the gunman's forearm.

The two old friends locked gazes.

          "I'd think you'd want ta stay sober, pard," Buck said softly, intently.  "Might be a long night if Vin builds a fever."

          Chris's eyes flashed.  "Stay out of it," he growled, reaching again for the bottle.

          "What the hell's got into you, Chris?" Buck demanded.  "I can understand stayin' out of the way for a while, givin' Nathan some time ta get him cleaned up and bandaged, but–"

          "Buck, I said stay out it," Larabee hissed, his tone deadly.

          "Like hell I will," the ladies' man replied and the others exchanged concerned, wary glances, but they wisely stayed out of the escalating argument.  "He's your _friend_ , Chris.  He deserves better than this from ya."

          Larabee looked up, green eyes flashing perilously.  "You're right, Buck.  He does.  He deserves a helluva lot better 'n me."

          That took Wilmington aback and he bit down the retort that was on the tip of his tongue.  His eyes narrowed and he finally recognized the heavy shroud of guilt weighing on his oldest friend's shoulders for the first time.  "Chris?  What the hell's goin' on, stud?"

          The muscle in Larabee's jaw twitched.  "I'm the one who shot him," he managed thickly, looking like the words themselves might just make him sick to his stomach.

          "What?" JD gasped, staring aghast at the gunslinger.

          "I was aimin' for the guy on you," Chris said, speaking directly to Buck.  "But that other cowboy caught me around the shoulders…"

          "That villain I shot?" Ezra asked him, suddenly wishing he'd shot the ruffian a second time.

          Chris nodded, his gaze falling to the tabletop.  "I couldn't pull the shot," he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than the others.  "I was already firing.  I saw Vin go down…"

          "Ah hell, Chris, it wasn't your fault," Buck said, his tone full of understanding and sympathy.

          "Tell that to Vin," the gunslinger snapped, reaching again for the bottle.

          "No," Josiah said, stopping the blond.  "He'll need you, Chris…  And you need him," he added softly.  "Why don't you go over to the clinic, see how he's doing?"

          Chris's green eyes flashed dangerously as he held the preacher's gaze, but then the anger fizzled and died, replaced by the most profound guilt Josiah could ever remember seeing in a man's eyes.

          "Go on," the preacher urged again.

          Larabee hesitated, his eyes turning decidedly bright.  But then he nodded and stood.  No matter what, he owed Vin his support.

          Buck stood with Larabee, saying, "Come on, pard, I'll walk along with you."

          Chris thought briefly about saying no, but he could see the worry and friendship in the ladies' man's eyes and he nodded instead.  "Thanks," he rasped thickly.

          The two men left together, the others leaning back in their chairs, several relieved sighs escaping.

          "Damn," JD said softly.  "That's got to be the worst thing in the whole world…"

          "A man who hurts his brother… Yeah, that's bad, JD, real bad," Josiah replied in a soft rumble.  "But a man who hurts his soul, well now, that's even worse."

          "Amen to that, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra replied softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his deck of cards.

          JD looked confused, but decided not to ask.  The two men didn't look like they were in the mood to talk.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Buck stayed right beside Chris all the way to the clinic.  Once there, he reached out, intending to open the door for the blond, but Larabee caught his wrist, stopping him.

"What if I've killed him?" the gunslinger whispered softly, the pain his voice making Buck ache inside.

          "Ain't gonna happen, Chris," the ladies' man replied as confidently as he could.  "That kid's too damned stubborn to let an ol' cuss like you take him down."

          Chris snorted softly, but couldn't find the hope to rally a small smile for his friend.  "I hope you're right," he said, then reached out and opened the door, stepping quickly inside, as if he might change his mind if he hesitated, even for a moment.

          Buck watched the door close and sighed heavily.  He glanced heavenward and said quietly, "I know we're not on real good terms, Lord, but I've got ta believe you've got a special place in Your heart for that woolly tracker.  So, if you'd keep an eye on the two of 'em, I'd truly appreciate it."

          "Amen, brother," Josiah said softly from behind him.

          Buck turned, offering the preacher a slightly embarrassed, sad smile.  "Think He'll listen to an ol' sinner like me, Josiah?"

          The former priest grinned and nodded.  "Brother, he'll listen to anyone who cares enough to talk to Him."

          "You gonna wait?" the ladies' man asked him.

          Josiah nodded and took a seat on one of the two chairs there on the landing.  Buck took the other one.

          A few minutes later, JD arrived, taking a seat on the top step as he said, "Ezra said we should come fetch him if Vin needed him."

          Buck nodded, and the three men began their vigil in silence.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Nathan looked up from where he was sitting next to the narrow bed.  Vin lay there, quiet and still, his eyes closed, his head wrapped in bandages.

Chris swallowed hard and shuffled forward hesitantly.  He pulled his hat off and asked, "How's he doing?"

          "Good, I hope," the healer replied.  "He woke up a couple 'a times, but he wasn't makin' much sense."

          "He gonna be all right?"

          Nathan took a moment, then said, "Head wounds can be a mite tricky.  Can't say fo' sure, but I think he's just sleepin' now."

          "I'll sit with him, if you want to go get something to eat," Chris said, his tone half-lost, half-frightened.

          Nathan almost said no, but the look in Larabee's eyes changed his mind.  It was clear Larabee needed some time with Tanner.  "All right, reckon I could use a bite.  I'll be at the saloon if ya need me.  Ya just send someone to fetch me back."

          Chris nodded and when Nathan stood, he took the healer's place in the chair.  "Anything I can do for him?"

          "If he wakes up, see if he'll drink some of what's in there," the healer said, nodding to a tin cup on the small table next to the bed.  "And make sure he stays in that bed, too.  I don't want him movin' 'round anymo' than necessary."

          Chris nodded again.

          When Nathan was gone, Larabee scooted the chair close to the bed, then reached out and took Vin's hand into his own, clasping it lightly.  "Damn, Vin, I'm sorry.  I never meant to hurt you," he said softly.  "You have to know that… You mean so much to me…  Guess I didn't really know just how much, 'til now.  Always thought the best part of me died in that fire… but you…  I can't lose you, too, Vin…"  When there was no response, no squeeze from the limp fingers, Chris carefully eased the sleeping man's hand back down and then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting, willing the tracker to heal and to wake up.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

  **The next morning, Friday**

          Vin moaned, his feet moving slightly under the covers and, in the chair beside the bed, Chris jerked wide-awake.  "Vin?" he called thickly.

          Tanner groaned, continuing to move restlessly under the blanket.

          "Easy, pard," Chris soothed, his voice quiet as he reached out to gently squeeze the tracker's shoulder.  "You awake?"

          Vin's blue eyes cracked open and he glanced around, his expression pained and confused.

          "Easy, Vin, it's all right," Chris told him.  "You were shot," he added.  "So you just stay right where you are; be still."

          "Damn," Vin breathed, his head pounding worse than he could ever remember.  "Did y' git 'im?"

          Chris opened his mouth to reply, but he didn't know exactly what to say.  "Vin," he finally managed, "there wasn't any 'him.'"

          Tanner frowned, his gaze still moving restlessly.  "What're y' talkin' 'bout, Cowboy?  A woman shot me?  Who was she?"

          Chris took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh.  "There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna come right out with it…  I'm the one who shot you, Vin."

          "Like hell y' did," Tanner growled, scowling.  "I saw 'im in the rocks behind ya."

          Chris shook his head sharply.  "No.  I did it.  One of those cowboys grabbed me as I fired and–"

          Vin rolled his head from side to side, the blackness already returning, pulling him away again.  "No… ain't right…"

          "I'm sorry, Vin," Chris said as he saw the tracker's eyes drop closed again.  "I'm so damn sorry…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

  **Later that day**

          It was dinnertime and most of the peacekeepers were in the saloon, enjoying another of Inez's wonderful meals, when JD burst in and hurried over to join them.

          "What's set your drawers on fire, kid?" Buck asked the young sheriff.

          "Another barn got burned this afternoon," JD said, ignoring Buck's teasing.  He took a deep breath and added, "And Molly Lewis was killed."

          "Aw….  Damn it," Buck breathed, dropping back against his chair, the food forgotten.

          The other men looked equally stunned.  The child was only four, and "cute as a button," as the ladies' man reminded them constantly.

          Buck was about to saying something when the batwing doors were pushed open and Stewart James stalked into the saloon.

          "Speak of the devil," JD muttered, shooting the man a dark glare.

          James spotted the peacekeepers and immediately walked over to join them at their table.  He stood, looking down at the angry expressions on the men's faces.  "Guess ya already heard about the Lewis barn gettin' burned," he said.

          "We did," JD replied, his hands coming up to rest on the butts of his guns.

          "Pull your horns in, son.  I came all the way in here myself to tell you boys I didn't have anything to do with that little girl's death.  Haven't had nothing to do with _any_ of the barns that have been burned down around here recently."

          "And you expect us to believe that?" Buck asked the rancher, his tone soft and dangerous.

          James shrugged impassively.  "No skin off my back if you do or don't.  I'm just tellin' you the way it is.  I figure the less time you spend watching me and my boys, the more you'll have to find the bastards who're doing this."

          "And when did you become concerned about the health and welfare of the local farmers?" Ezra asked the rancher.

          "Don't care 'bout 'em," James replied matter-of-factly.  "But killin' an innocent little child like that…?"  He trailed off, shaking his head.  "I haven't got a thing to gain burning them folks' barns.  You'd do well to set your sights someplace else."  And with that, James turned and left.

          Josiah sighed and said, "The man has a point," after James had left the saloon.

          Buck puffed out a breath.  "I hate to say it, but I agree with ya, Josiah.  I don't think James is our man."

          "Then who?" JD asked the ladies' man.  "Royal?  One of the other ranchers?"

          "Wish I knew, kid," Wilmington said, brow wrinkled with frustration.

          "Well, whoever it is, they must believe they have something to gain by their actions," Ezra said.  "But I cannot imagine what that might be, unless it _is_ one of the ranchers who is trying to run these poor people off.  Clearly they have something to gain, namely land."

          "And water," Josiah added thoughtfully.

          "Something else is goin' on," Buck said, shaking his head.  "I don't know what it is, but there's something else."

          "Well, we better figure it out quick," JD said.  "Folks are gettin' pretty upset."

          "Hopefully before anyone else gets killed," Josiah added.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **The next morning, Saturday**

          Josiah hung in a rope chair he'd fashioned for himself, carefully whitewashing one side of the short bell tower on the old church he was renovating.  Below him the townsfolk went about their daily activities.  Some stopped to call up a greeting, or to exchange a few words with the former preacher while he went about his work.

          It was just after Mary Travis had stopped to ask him about how Vin was doing that Josiah heard it, a high-pitched creaking sound just before he felt the rope give way and he fell.

          Mary, who had only gotten a short distance down the nearby boardwalk, turned and called, "Josiah!" before she hurried back to him, helping him to stand.  "Are you all right?"

          "I think so," he replied, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other and sucked in a sharp breath.  He shook his head, smiling sheepishly and saying, "Ah, I see I've spoken too soon."

          "Your leg?" she asked, seeing how he was keeping the weight off one foot.

          "Knee, I think."

          "Here, let me help you over to Nathan's clinic."

          "I'll–"

          "Josiah!  Josiah, you all right?" JD asked breathlessly, running up to join them.  "I saw you fall from–  Are you all right?"

          Josiah nodded.  "Just twisted my knee," he assured the younger man, his gaze sliding to the boy who had followed JD over.

          JD saw where the preacher's gaze had gone and said, "Josiah, this is Glen Ellerby.  He and his brother are in town lookin' for some work.  I've been, uh, showing him around some."

          "That was quite a fall!" Glen said breathlessly, his eyes round with excitement.  "You're lucky you're alive!"

          "Good Lord had other plans, I guess," Josiah replied, then looked back to JD.  "Help me out of this, will you?"

          "Nathan needs to take a look at Josiah's leg," Mary said as JD untied the rope, letting it fall into the dust.  She was determined not to let the preacher escape without being checked for other injuries.

          "Come on, Josiah," JD said.  "Glen and I can help you over to the clinic."

          Josiah looked to Mary, saying, "I appreciate your help, Mary."

          She nodded, watching them go, a worried frown on her face.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~*

 

"Ya need to stay off that leg fo' a day or two, should be right as rain after that," Nathan said after he finished examining Josiah's knee.  "I'm goin' to wrap it in some cool cloths, see if we can't bring that swellin' down some.  How'd it happen?"

          "Fell off the roof," the big man admitted sheepishly.

          JD slid into the clinic, closing the door behind him.  "You didn't fall," he said, glancing around to make sure no one else was around.

Chris was sitting next to Vin's bed, reading while he waited for the tracker to wake up again.  He looked up, meeting the young man's gaze for a moment.

"Sorry to interrupt, Chris, but I needed to show Josiah this."  JD handed the preacher the length of rope he was carrying and said, "That rope didn't break, preacher, it was cut.  You can see it, right there, plain as day."

          Josiah took the coil and checked the two ends.  One had obviously been cut.  He shook his head.  "I didn't see anyone, but then I wasn't paying that much attention to anything but the bell tower, and the people who stopped to talk to me."

          Chris rose and walked over, checking the rope himself.  "Got anyone mad at you lately?" he asked the preacher.

          "Oh, probably," Josiah replied with a self-effacing grin.  "You know me, sometimes I rush in where a better man would fear to tread."

          Chris held the older man's eyes for a moment.  "Time we stepped up the patrols.  Those cowboys might've decided to make this personal.  I'll go tell the others."  He glanced back at the sleeping tracker.  "You keep an eye on him for me?" he asked the healer.

Nathan nodded.

Larabee left, JD following behind him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **A couple of hours later**

          Nathan was rubbing liniment into Josiah's leg when the tracker finally moaned softly and opened his eyes.

          "Vin?" the healer called softly, watching as the blue eyes shifted, as if Tanner were seeking out the source of his voice.  "Vin, you awake?"

          "'M awake," the man mumbled thickly.

          Nathan reached for a cup of water and then held Tanner's head so the tracker could take a drink.

Vin's nose immediately wrinkled.  "What's that smell?" he asked Jackson.

          "Sorry," Nathan apologized, "I got some liniment on m' hands.  I'm rubbin' some on Josiah's knee.  He twisted it up pretty bad in a fall."

          "Long as y' don't want me t' drink somethin' that smells like that," Vin replied.  His brow furrowed.  "Why y' workin' in the dark?"

          Nathan and Josiah exchanged worried looks before the healer prompted, "Dark?"

          "Hell, Nate, it's black as pitch in here," Vin replied.  "Why don't y' light a lamp so y' c'n see what yer doin'?"

          Nathan sighed softly, his head dipping.

          "What?" Vin asked the healer.  "Nate, what's goin' on?"

          Sitting down on the chair Larabee had been using, Nathan examined Vin's eyes and head.  "What do you see, Vin?  Exactly."

          "Bunch 'a nothin'," Vin replied.  "Must be the middle 'a the night–"  He stopped.  "Moon's near full… shouldn't be this dark…  Nathan?"

          "Ya took a bullet crease to the head, Vin, then hit your head again when you fell…"

          Tanner swallowed nervously.  "Y' sayin' 'm blind, Doc?"

          Nathan reached out and gently gripped the tracker's shoulder.  "Seems so."

          "Fer good?" Vin asked, the question coming out as a choked whisper.

          Nathan glanced at Josiah again.  The older man shrugged one shoulder and then nodded.  There was no use lying to the tracker, he wouldn't thank them, was the clear message.

The healer looked back to Tanner saying, "Can't be sure, Vin.  Head injuries are tricky things.  Might be it'll clear up in no time… might not, too.  Your head hurt?"

          "Like Peso kicked me… a couple 'a times," he replied honestly, afraid if he held anything back he might not get the whole truth from the healer.

          "Feelin' sick in your belly?"

          "No," Vin replied.  "When will y' know, Nate?"

          Nathan thought for a moment, then sighed and said, "I can't say, Vin.  We're just gonna have to wait and see how this goes, day by day."

          "It'll work itself out," Josiah called softly from his chair, and then added, "Ah damn, Chris isn't going to take this well…"

          "Chris?" Vin asked the preacher.  "What's he got t' do with it?  What's wrong?  He hurt?"

          "No, take it easy.  He's fine.  He's…" Nathan started, trailing off.  "He's the one who grazed you," he finally finished.  "Got hit just as he fired and he couldn't pull the shot, he said."

          Vin shook his head and immediately regretted it.  He moaned and took a deep, steadying breath saying, "He didn't graze m' head.  There was someone else in them rocks behind him.  I told 'im that.  Chris's shot caught m' coat – top 'a the shoulder.  Take a look fer yerself y' don't believe me."

          Nathan stood and walked over to where the tracker's hide coat hung from a peg and checked it.  Sure enough, there was a rent at the shoulder.  He showed it to Josiah.

          "Seems more than a passing coincidence, don't you think?" the preacher asked Nathan, who nodded.

          "What?" Vin demanded.

          "You see someone in the rocks, someone who tries to kill you, and then someone cuts the rope I was using to hold me while I whitewashed the bell tower."

          Vin's unseeing eyes rounded.  "Y' all right, J'siah?"

          "Appreciate ya askin', brother, but I just twisted my knee," the man replied, touched by the concern in the man's voice when he was facing the terror of blindness.

          "Yeah, it's swelled up like a melon," Nathan added lightly.  "But he'll be fine.  We best tell the others someone's gunning for us soon as they get back."

          Josiah nodded, looking back at Vin, but the tracker was sleeping, or unconscious, once again.  "We're goin' to have to tell Chris about Vin, too."

          "I'll do it," Nathan said, shaking his head.

          "Chris can take on more than his fair share of guilt, and this is gonna sit mighty heavy on his shoulders," Josiah added sadly.

          "Yeah, it will.  Just hope it won't be too heavy fo' him t' bear."

          "Amen to that, brother."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **That evening**

          It was just after sundown when Vin awoke next.

Nathan was at the saloon, grabbing a bite to eat and, hopefully, telling Larabee about Vin's blindness, and what the tracker had said about the other shooter, leaving Josiah in the clinic to watch the tracker while he kept his leg elevated and wrapped with cold cloths.

          "Vin?" Josiah called when he heard the tracker groan and begin to stir.  "You need some water, brother?"

          Tanner nodded and Josiah hobbled over and helped him finish off what was left in the cup setting on the table by the bedside before he sat back down and rested his foot on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" the preacher asked.

          "Head feels like there's 'n ol' prospector in there… diggin' like a rabid badger fer his gold."

          Josiah chuckled softly.  "Sounds downright painful."

          "Yep."

          The two men sat in silence for a short time, then Vin asked softly, "Y' ever think much 'bout dyin', J'siah?"

          "Now and again," he admitted and then added with a small grin, "Usually when I get t' seein' the crows… which usually happens after too many nights in the company of the wrong kind of spirits."

          Vin smiled thinly and nodded his understanding.

          "Why do you ask, Vin?" Josiah ventured, afraid he already knew the answer.

          The tracker turned his head away, but didn't say anything.

          Josiah's eyes narrowed slightly and he watched the younger man glancing sightlessly around the room.  "It'll come back, Vin.  You just have to give it a little time."

          Vin didn't reply immediately, and when he did, it was with an underlying anger that took the former priest by surprise.  "Ain't much call fer a tracker who can't see tracks, or a blind sharpshooter.  Makes me 'n easy target fer any bounty hunter who wants that five hundred dollars t' line his pockets."

          "Vin, you have to know that we won't let that happen," Josiah said, a little hurt by the man's apparent lack of faith in them.

          "Ain't gonna' be a burden fer the rest 'a ya, J'siah."

          "The Lord wants us to be our brothers' keeper, Vin.  It wouldn't be a burden."

          Tanner thought for a moment, then glanced in Josiah's direction and asked, "What would y' do, J'siah, if'n it was you?"

          The older man leaned back in the chair, sighing heavily.  He had to give the man an honest answer, but he really didn't want to.  "Probably the same thing you're thinkin'."

          "Nathan says this ain't gonna get no better–" Vin started, but the preacher cut him off.

          "He doesn't know, Vin.  You heard what he said: head injuries are unpredictable."

          "He'll know," Tanner insisted.

          Josiah sighed again.  "Yeah, I suppose he will, eventually."

          "When that day comes–"

          "Vin–"

          "J'siah, I need y' t' promise me y'll help me do what's got t' be done.  I can't ask Chris, it'd hurt 'im too much.  JD's too young to–  Hell, y' know what 'm tryin' t' say.  Buck an' Nathan, y' know they couldn't do it."

          "And Ezra?"

          Vin thought for a moment, then said, "Hell, he'd keep comin' up with one damned excuse or 'nother an' I'd never git m' business taken care of fer all the palaver."

          The older man's head dipped, but a small grin touched his lips.  "I don't know if I can make you that promise, Vin…"

          "Please, J'siah," Tanner begged him.  "All y' got t' do is help me git out 'a

town, that's all."

          The preacher closed his eyes, praying fervently that he would never be held to this promise, and then said, "When that time comes, _if_ that time comes, you know I'll help you.  _If_ that's really what you want."

          "Thank y', J'siah," the tracker breathed and the relief in his voice was genuine and heartfelt.  All the same, it made the preacher's heart ache.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "There wasn't anybody else in those rocks," Larabee argued after Nathan repeated Vin's recollection of the fight.

The healer set his fork down and looked pointedly at the gunslinger.  "He remembers your bullet catchin' his coat, and there's a rent's there, Chris, right where he said it'd be."

          That caught the gunslinger a little off guard.  "What?"

          Nathan nodded.  "He saw you shoot.  Your bullet caught him at the top of the shoulder.  The shooter's bullet grazed his head.  Probably would've killed him if yo'r bullet hadn't caught him like it did, had 'im fallin' already."

          "Vin, then Josiah," Chris said.  "Wonder who'll be next."

          "Could be any one of us," Nathan replied.

          Larabee nodded, his heart suddenly lighter than it had been since he'd heard Vin had been shot.  He hadn't hurt the man.  He hadn't nearly killed someone he loved more than anything in this world.

          The healer dipped his head, took a deep breath and said, "Got some news on Vin…"

          Larabee's brow wrinkled with worry and he waited for Jackson to go on, but he didn't.  "Damn it, Nathan, what is it?" he snarled, panic flashing through his veins as fast as a wild driven wildfire on the prairie.

          The healer glanced up, wishing he didn't have to do this, but said, "Them head wounds…"

          "Nathan," Chris growled.

          "They've left him blind."

          The color drained from Larabee's face.  "Blind?" he managed to choke out, his stomach threatening to rebel.

          Nathan nodded.  "Don't know if it'll last – might, might not, too.  Just gonna have to wait and see how it goes."

          "Does he know?" Chris asked, his voice still tight.

          Nathan nodded.

          Fear crossed the gunslinger's face.  "And you left him alone?"

          "Josiah's with 'im."

          Larabee sighed.  "Damn," he breathed.  "Goddamn."  He knew he was going to have to talk to Vin, and soon.  He knew exactly how the tracker would react to the news, and there was no way he was going to let the man take his own life.  Not when he knew that he couldn't survive without Tanner in his life.  It didn't matter to him if the man could see or not.  He could take care of him, _would_ take care of him, and without complaint, just to have Vin in his life.

But he also knew Vin would never agree to that…  _Goddamn_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **The next morning, Sunday**

          Buck bid a good day to his latest conquest and headed for the saloon where he knew coffee and breakfast waited.  As he turned down the alley that ran between the Standish Tavern and the hotel he heard a noise and started to turn, but was struck from behind.  He pitched forward into the dirt, white and yellow flashes of light erupting in front of his eyes before they faded to cold blackness.

          A few minutes later the ladies' man groaned and started spitting the dirt from his mouth.  Struggling to his feet, he headed for the clinic, his gait unsteady.

          Climbing the stairs almost forced him to pass out again, but he managed to reach the door and stumbled inside.

          Nathan looked up from here he was grinding herbs for Vin and yelped, "Buck?"

          "Howdy, Nate," the ladies' man greeted him cordially, and then he collapsed heavily to the floor.

          "Bucklin?" Vin called.  "What's wrong with 'im, Doc?"

          "Don't know," the healer said, moving quickly to the fallen man's side and beginning to examine him for injuries.

          "Nate?" Vin called a few moments later.

          "Looks like somebody hit him from behind, pretty hard, too.  He's got an egg-sized lump here."

          "Ow," Buck moaned, and then yelped louder as Nathan continued to clean the tear in his scalp.

          "Hold still," the healer told him.

          "Hold still?  That _hurts_ , damn it," Buck complained.

          "Gonna hurt more if it gets infected," Nathan countered, helping the man to stand and guiding him over to a chair where he could sit.  He finished cleaning and dressing the wound.

          "Bucklin?" Vin called, clearly worried.

          "I'm fine, kid," the ladies' man replied.

          "What happened?" the tracker asked him.

          "Somebody tried to stove my head in while I was on m' way to the saloon."

          "Jealous husband?" Nathan asked with a grin.

          Buck grinned back.  "Doubt it.  I'm usually too quick for 'em."

          "Reckon we better find the others an' have us a parley," Vin said.  He wanted to put an end to this before anyone else got hurt, especially before Chris got himself killed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In the clinic, the seven regulators argued about what was happening, and why.

"I'm telling ya, pard, someone's tryin' to take us down, one by one," Buck insisted, still looking a little pale and in pain.

Chris's jaw muscles worked furiously.  He had been shown the hole in the shoulder of Vin's hide coat, and the tracker was still insisting he hadn't been the one who had shot him in the head, but it was hard for the gunslinger to believe him.  Still, the attacks on Josiah and Buck certainly made it look like they were all being targeted by someone.

          "What I fail to understand is how these _cowboys_ know where we'll be in order to waylay us as they have," Ezra said.

"Well, Josiah wasn't hidin' up there on the bell tower," Nathan said.

The preacher nodded his agreement and looked over at Buck, who was sitting in a chair, his feet propped up on the foot of Vin's bed.  "And Buck's, uh, conquest last night was about as public as it could get."

          Wilmington grinned.  "Ya do have a point about that, Josiah."

          "Yeah.  Carting a lady off on your shoulder is pretty obvious," JD agreed, nodding.

          "But what about Vin?" Nathan asked the others.

          "Well, whoever set that barn on fire probably knew we were looking for them," JD said.  "Maybe they just decided to take a shot at us and hoped they've get lucky."

          "Any strangers in town?" Vin asked from his bed.  His gaze wandered around the clinic, but he still couldn't make out anything and, as a result, his expression had an inward focus that was disconcerting to the other peacekeepers.

          "No more than usual," Ezra replied, then frowned and glanced over at JD, adding, "Of course, there is Mr. Dunne's new friend, and his brother."

          "Glen?" JD asked, surprised, then he shook his head.  "Naw, Glen and his brother are just passin' though.  Said they were going up to Wickenberg.  He's just curious about what being a sheriff's like, that's all.  Thinks he might want to be a deputy.  He's been taggin' along on my rounds and…"  He trailed off, frowning.

"What're you thinking, JD?" Chris asked him.

"Glen was with me on my rounds when we saw Josiah whitewashing the bell tower… and he was playing cards with me and Ezra and his brother when Buck hauled Miss Nancy off last night.  Sam left right after Buck did; said he wanted to go check on his horse.  Been off its feed, he said."

"When did these two get to town?" Josiah asked JD.

The younger man thought for a moment, then said, "I think it was a couple of days ago, maybe three."  He glanced around at the others.  "He's just a kid!"

"Hell, JD, he's probably as old as you are," Buck said.

"He's nice," JD argued.

"Maybe he is, but we can't be sure he's not involved with this," Chris replied.

"Perhaps we could instigate a trial of sorts," Ezra suggested.

"What do you have in mind?" Josiah questioned.

"Why, giving them exactly what they want, of course," the gambler said with the flash of his gold tooth.  "Us."

 

* ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          When the others left the clinic, Josiah lagged behind, wanting to talk to Vin alone.  The tracker had been a little too quiet and withdrawn during their discussion and that had him worried.

          "How are you feeling, brother?" he asked when the door shut behind the last of the other men.  He knew Larabee had wanted to stay behind as well, but when Josiah had made no move to leave, the blond had drifted out with the others.  There was something going between the two men, but Sanchez wasn't exactly sure what it was.

          "Head's some better," Vin replied, but there was a decided lack of optimism in his tone of voice.

          "Give it time, Vin," Josiah urged the tracker.  "It's only been a few days."

          Vin nodded, but didn't offer anything more.

          Josiah sighed softly and left, stopping on the landing, trying to decide what to do next.  Then he sighed heavily and went in search of Chris, catching him before he entered the saloon.  "Walk over to the church with me," he said softly.

          Larabee glanced up, meeting the preacher's eyes.  "We have to–"

          "It's about Vin."

          Chris immediately turned away from the batwing doors, following Josiah down the boardwalk and into the church.  He sat down on one of the front pews, waiting for the big man to speak.

          Josiah took off his hat, tossing it onto the pew next to Chris, and then ran a hand over his short-cropped hair before he sighed heavily and sat down not too far from Larabee, his hands hanging limply between his knees.  His head also hung down.

          "Josiah, what is it?" Chris asked him, his heart beginning to pound in his chest.  Had the man figured out what they were?  Had something happened to Vin after they'd left?

          The big man leaned back and said bluntly, "I think he's gettin' ready to die, Chris, and I can't seem to give him a reason to live."

          Larabee sat up straighter, a worried expression on his face.  "Nathan hasn't said–"

          "Vin doesn't believe that there's a place here for a blind tracker," Josiah interrupted him.  "Chris, if his vision doesn't improve, soon, he's going to ride out into that desert and die."

          "What?"

          Josiah leaned forward, his smoky grey gaze holding Larabee's green as he said, "Think about it.  What if that was you lying up there, facing a future, a _lifetime_ as a blind man…  What would you do?"

          Chris thought for a moment, then he swallowed hard and cursed softly.  "I'll go talk to him."

          "Go easy, brother," Josiah warned him.  "You push him too hard, you might force him out there quicker."

          Larabee nodded, determined that that _wasn't_ going to happen.  He couldn't allow it to happen.  If Tanner died, it would kill something inside the gunslinger he didn't think he could survive without.  Not any more.  "You tell the others to stay away from the clinic 'til I'm done," he said quietly and Josiah nodded as he stood, watching the blond stalk out of the church.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Vin's head turned and he squinted as Chris stepped into the clinic.  "Nate?" he rasped.

          "No, it's me," Chris replied, wincing as he watched the man trying to make him out and so obviously failing.

          The tracker struggled to sit up a little more in his bed.  "What's goin' on out there?"

          "Not sure yet," Chris told him.  "I, uh…"  He trailed off, sighed, and then said bluntly, "I need you to promise me something, Vin."

"What?" Tanner asked, his forehead wrinkling with suspicion.

"Promise me that you'll wait 'til this is over before you make any decisions… about what you're gonna do next."

          Vin hissed softly, realizing that Josiah must have talked to Chris, must have told him about the promise he'd extracted from the preacher.  He considered Larabee's request for a moment, then shook his head and said, "Not sure I c'n do that, Cowboy."

          "Damn it, Vin," Chris said thickly, "you don't have to–"

          "Don't have a life without m' eyes, Chris," the tracker said, interrupting the man.

          "You're wrong.  You have a life with me, eyes or no eyes."

          "What?  Y' gonna take me out t' yer shack an' take care 'a me like 'm some kind 'a little baby?"

          "It wouldn't be like that," Larabee said, fear making his words thick with emotion.

          "Th' hell it wouldn't.  I ain't gonna live like that, Chris… can't."

          Larabee's fingers curled into fists.  He didn't know how to reach the tracker any better than Josiah had.  "Just give me your word you'll wait 'til this is over.  Then, whatever you decide, I'll–  Just give me your word, Vin.  Please.  I'm not asking for much."

          Tanner was silent for a moment, but he knew he couldn't say no, not when Chris sounded like that.  He nodded, saying, "All right, but y' better figger out what's goin' on b'fore someone dies.  'Cause sure as hell somebody's tryin' t' kill us."

          "Well, if they are, they're not doing a very good job," Chris replied dryly.

          Vin snorted.  "Damn near got me.  An' J'siah could've got himself killed in that fall.  An' Buck–"

          "I know.  They might be trying to kill us, but you have to admit, they're not very good at it."

"Damn amateurs," Tanner spat disgustedly, shaking his head.

Chris nodded as he snorted softly, amused by the disgusted tone of the tracker's voice.  "Might be some new friends of JD's.  If it is, Ezra's plan might force their hand.  But we'll find them, whoever it is, I promise you that."  And he would too.  He wouldn't rest until the men responsible for Tanner's pain were dead and buried.

          Vin nodded.

          Chris thought for a moment, knowing that Josiah would keep the others away from the clinic until he put in an appearance at the saloon.  He needed to make sure he got through to Tanner, and there was only one way he knew he could do that.

He turned and walked over to the door of the clinic, locking it, and then walked back to the bed, unbuttoning and pulling off his shirt as he did.

Stopping at the bedside, he unbuckled his gunbelt and laid it in the chair.  His boots and pants followed his shirt.

          "Chris?" Vin called softly, frowning in concentration.  He could hear the gunslinger, but he couldn't tell what the man was doing.

          "I'm right here," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out to begin unbuttoning the long johns the tracker was wearing.

          "What're y' doin'?" Vin asked, his hands coming up to tangle with Larabee's.

          "I'm gonna show you something…"

          "Damn it, Chris, y' know I can't see any–"

          "Don't need to see it," he breathed, leaning in to capture the tracker's mouth.  The kiss was soft, tender, but there was an underlying hunger to it that captured Tanner's attention.

          Vin fought slightly at first, afraid that someone might come in and find them like this, but he couldn't ignore what lay behind that kiss.  He gave in, allowing himself to sink into the feelings it created.  And as he surrendered, his lips opened and Larabee's tongue slipped into his mouth, running over his teeth and the underside of his upper lip, which sent shivers of arousal chasing down his spine and he moaned softly, the sound almost a whimper.

          Without really realizing how it had happened, Vin realized that his shirt was gone and Chris's hands were rubbing over his chest.  He trembled under that warm touch.  The blond's hands were calloused from hard work, but his touch was soft, loving, and Vin shook and trembled under it.

          "Chris," he whispered, "this don't–"  Lips captured his again, silencing him, as a hand slipped under his drawers, sliding down to capture his semi-erect cock.

          He couldn't help himself, his hips jerked up, pressing himself into that promising grasp.  "Chris, please…"

          Larabee wasn't sure what Vin was asking from him – to sate his need, or to understand his lack of desire to live without his sight.  He hoped he could shift the man's focus to the first.  So, to that end, Chris released the man's cock and pulled the covers down, then reached for the bottom half of the tracker's long johns, pulling them off Tanner's body.  Then, climbing onto the bed, he straddled Vin's hips, his own erection poking the tracker's belly demandingly.

          Vin sucked in a sharp breath.  He might not be able to see, but all of his other senses were aware of what was happening to him.  He could hear the other man's breath become more ragged.  He could smell the musk of his arousal.  He could feel the head of Chris's cock, dancing across his belly.  And he could taste the traces of the man on his lips.

Larabee put his hand on the tracker's chest and pushed him back toward the bed.  He moved so Vin could lay down, and he did, their silent communication working as perfectly as usual.  Then he slid on top of him.

Vin reached up, running his hands along Chris's back.  He could feel the heat rising from the man, and the muscles rippling beneath his skin.  Pulling him down, he felt the light smattering of blond hairs on Larabee's chest pressing against his own.  And the hard nubs of the blond's nipples poked his skin, making him want to suck on them.

          Chris's face was above Vin's, and the gunslinger leaned down, kissing him again.  His lips parted, drawing Tanner's tongue into his mouth.

          Tanner wrapped one leg around Larabee's body, pulling him tighter into him.  Chris responded, kissing over the tracker's face, his teeth nipping at the man's chin before moving down his neck where he sucked softly at the flesh.  The tracker's whiskers were prickly and he ran his tongue over them, enjoying the tickle it caused.

          Vin's hands traveled over Chris's body, having already memorized the curves and dips.  He squeezed Larabee's muscular ass, fingers teasing along his crack.  When the man's muscles contacted, Tanner reached under the man to pet at his stiff cock as it pressed against Tanner's stomach.  Larabee moaned softly and rubbed his body up and down on the tracker.

          As Chris sucked intently on one of Vin's nipples, the tracker reached down and kneaded the man's balls, running his finger along the area behind them and finally sliding a finger gently in to tap at his asshole.  He groaned and Vin trembled at the feel of the resulting vibration passing into his chest.  It was as if he was feeling everything more clearly, more profoundly.

          Vin continued to tease at the tight opening, losing himself in the awareness of the steady stream of precome that was now flowing from Chris's cock onto his belly.  He loved the smell of the man and wanted to taste that teasing cock.

          But then Larabee slid back and knelt between the tracker's legs, pushing them apart with his knees.  Taking Tanner's aching cock in one hand, he began to jerk slowly while sucking on the head, his lips moving in time with his hand motions.

          Vin gasped as he felt himself sliding in and out of Chris's warm, moist mouth.  The combination of lips, tongue, and teeth were forcing him straight to the edge.  "Chris," he moaned.  "Need ya… need y' bad…"

          "Can't," Larabee whispered thickly, lifting his head.  "Don't want to hurt ya."

          Vin whimpered, his fingers curling into Larabee's short hair and the blond cursed softly.  He never could deny the man anything he wanted in bed.

          "I'll see if I can find something," he groaned, climbing off the bed and making a quick search of the shelves where Nathan kept some of his prepared medicines, including an ointment he often gave the peacekeepers when they had sore and aching muscles.  It was oily, and he'd used some to make love to Vin on more than one occasion.  He took the tin down and returned to the bed, climbing back between Tanner's legs.

          "You sure about this?"

          Vin nodded, reaching down to stroke himself.  "Want y' inside me, Chris.  Please."

          Larabee quickly coated his cock with the oily substance, then reached down and ran his fingers along Vin's ass crack.  He found the opening and pressed a finger in, sliding easily on the oily substance.  He added a second and, going slowly, turned them, back and forth, loosening the tight ring of muscle until he felt Vin begin to relax.  Then he pulled his fingers out, lifted Tanner's legs, and pressed the tip of his cock against the waiting hole.

          Pressing forward, he slid in in one smooth movement, his thick cock stretching Vin, bringing tears to his eyes.  At first the tracker wasn't sure Chris could get the whole thing in with so little preparation, but soon he felt the blond's balls brushing his ass, and then Larabee stopped.

          Vin breathed slowly, letting himself get used to the cock in his ass.  Despite the pain, it felt wonderful to have the man buried inside him.  Then he felt the blond's cock twitch, felt Larabee's hands on his hips, pulling him closer.

Chris began to love him, pulling out slowly and pressing back in with a steady rhythm.  And as he did, Vin jerked himself off, his hand matching the timing of the gunslinger's thrusts, his balls slapping softly against his fist when Chris pushed into him all the way.

          Larabee pushed the tracker's legs back toward Tanner's chest, his hands under his knees so he had a full view of his cock slipping in and out of the man.  He closed his eyes, trying to imagine never being able to see Vin again… never see his body, his eyes, his smile… never see himself making love to him again… never see anything, ever again, and he suddenly knew what he was fighting.

His motions became harder, deeper, his cock filling Vin again and again as he reached places neither he nor Tanner ever knew existed before.  But he had to show him, he had to make Vin realize that there were things worth living for, even if it wasn't easy… even if he never saw anything, ever again.

Vin was swept up in the sensations being evoked in his body.  He could feel the pressure in his balls mounting as he let himself open further to Chris's cock, which was carrying him closer and closer to climax, and every time the blond slapped against the tracker's ass, Tanner edged closer to that razor edge.

He could feel the love Chris had for him, knew then what it would do to the man if he were to disappear.  And he knew he couldn't do it.  Somehow he had to find a way to survive as a blind man.  It was, after all, only his eyes.  He had the rest of his senses, and he had the love of this man to sustain him, and that thought tipped him over that edge.

          Chris pounded into Vin, his eyes opening so he could watch as and the seed shot from Tanner's cock, coating the tracker's chest and neck as he gasped for breath.

Larabee wrapped his arms around the tracker's legs and pulled him forward, at the same time plunging into him.  With a loud grunt, he came deep inside Vin, his cock filling him with hot seed.

          After, they lay in each other arms for a short time, then Chris climbed off the bed, cleaned himself and Vin up, and then returned the tin of ointment to the shelf where he had found it.  He dressed, then helped the tracker back into his long johns, got him back into bed, and covered him with the blanket.

          "You all right?" he asked the younger man.

          Vin nodded, but his expression was pinched and troubled.  He was stuck now.  He couldn't do what he'd planned to do.  But what was he supposed to do with his life now?

          Chris walked back to the door and hesitated, saying, "Vin, I want you to think about this…  If it was me lying there in that bed instead of you, would you let me ride out into the desert – alone – to die?"  And, before the tracker could reply, Larabee left.

          Tanner sighed.  He had to live.  He had to be there for Chris, somehow.

          A few minutes later Josiah hobbled into the clinic, praying silently that he hadn't lost a friend.

          "Y' here t' keep watch on me?" Vin asked the preacher, his tone hard.  "Make sure I keep m' promise t' Larabee?"

          "Yeah, I'm here to keep an eye on you," the older man admitted.  "But you're going to have to look out for me, too.  Chris thinks we ought to stay in pairs, and it's not like I can move well enough on this bum leg to keep up with anyone else."

          Vin smiled thinly at that, unable to be mad at the man.  If he hadn't told Larabee, Chris wouldn't have just made love to him.  "Guess y' c'n give me a gun and point me in the right direction if it comes t' that."

          "Let's hope it doesn't," Josiah replied, chuckling softly.  "I'd hate to think of the windows that might be lost."

          Silence fell between the two men, several minutes passing before Josiah finally said, "I'm sorry, Vin, but I had to tell him."

          Tanner nodded.  "Reckon y' did."

          "I'll still keep my promise, if you ask me to," Josiah added softly.  "But I'm hoping that you won't, that, no matter what might happen, you can find a way to–"  Before he could finish, the door opened and Buck stomped in, muttering hotly under his breath.

          "Brother Buck," Josiah greeted, wishing he and Vin hadn't been interrupted.  "What brings you here?"

          "Nathan won't let me go with 'em!" the ladies' man stormed.  "Says this damned lump on my head might mean my brains are shook up."  He dropped heavily into a chair.  "Hell, it don't hurt any more than the mornin' after one of our big nights.  I can ride, Josiah."

          "That's reason enough to stay here, if you ask me," the preacher replied.

          "'Sides," Vin added, a touch of humor back in his voice.  "Y' scramble them brains 'a yers any more, y' might end up chasin' them cowboys instead 'a the ladies."

          Buck snorted and glanced over at the tracker.  "Day that happens, ya just take me out back of the saloon and shoot me, y'hear?"

          Vin jerked as if he'd been slapped – hard.

          "What?" Buck asked him, immediately worried about the tracker.  "Vin, you all right, stud?"

          The tracker nodded, his expression turning inward once again as he retreated into his own thoughts.  My God, was that what they really thought?  That the love of a man for a man was so evil, so repulsive that they'd rather die than allow that love into their lives?  It was incomprehensible to the tracker.  Love was a precious thing, no matter where you found it.  How could anyone throw it away, or reject it like that?

          Maybe Chris would be better off if he was dead.  At least then he'd never run the risk of someone realizing what they were up to.  Maybe then he'd finally turn his attention to Mary Travis, like he should have of all along.

          But he couldn't erase the feel of the man inside of him, and the way Chris had clung to him.  Chris loved him, of that he was sure.  And, God help him, he loved Larabee, too.  And he knew with absolutely certainty that he wouldn't be asking Josiah for his help.  He couldn't leave Chris like that.

But when the day came that the gunslinger lost interest, and if Vin's sight hadn't returned, then he might find his way into that desert by himself.  Until then, he'd swallow his pride and hope that love could sustain them both through whatever life threw at them.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          JD walked slowly back to the jail, his gaze sweeping the street and the people passing by as he did.  He greeted nearly everyone by name, and tipped his hat to all the young ladies.  When he reached the jail, he wasn't surprised to find Glen already there and waiting for him.

"Hi!" the young man greeted him.

          "Hey," JD replied, really hoping that he was wrong about the boy.  He had enjoyed having a friend close to his own age again.

          "What's wrong?" Glen asked him.  "Ya look a little down in the mouth, JD."

          "I'm worried," Dunne replied.  "We got some news on those barn burners.  Teddy Lorrey spotted some tracks over by his farm when he was out fixin; some fences.  Looks like they might be next.  We're riding out there to check on it."

          "Now?"

          "Yep," JD said.  "Just wanted to come tell you I won't be making my rounds."

          "Oh."  Glen sounded genuinely disappointed.  "Well, all right.  Guess I'll go on over to the saloon an' find Sam.  See ya later, JD.  And good luck."

          "Thanks."

          JD watched the boy leave and then headed for the livery.  He had a bad feeling he was going to be very disappointed before the end of the day.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

**That evening**

          It happened on their way back from the Lorrey farm.  A single shot rang out and Ezra fell from his saddle.  The other three peacekeepers dove for cover.

          "Just play dead," Chris called softly to the fallen gambler.

          "I assure you, it will not require much effort on my part," Ezra hissed back, but he remained motionless in the dirt.

          "Damn!" JD hissed softly.  "Glen's the only one who knew we'd be out here.  Why?  Why's he doing this?"

"We'll ask him soon as we get back to town," Chris growled, waiting for another shot to be fired at them.  When it didn't come, he eased out from where he had taken cover and scrambled over to Ezra, checking his wound.

          When there were still no more shots, Nathan joined the two men, helping Chris move Ezra to cover, and then quickly checked the gambler before he bound the two wounds he found.

          "Got t' be the luckiest man alive," the healer marveled.  "Bullet went right between yo' arm and yo' side, just took some skin off both."

          "It feels considerably more than 'some,' I can assure you, Mr. Jackson."

          Nathan grinned.  "Yeah, I'm sure it does.  Soon as we get you back to the clinic, I'll clean it up and bind it good.  Shouldn't even leave much of a scar."

          "I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that," Ezra muttered dryly.

          Chris looked over at JD, saying, "Come on, let's go see if anyone is still out there."

          The young sheriff nodded, following Larabee.

          Their hunt turned up tracks from two horses, but that was all.

          "I'm going to–" JD started.

          "Nothing.  You're going to do nothing," Chris warned him.  "We have an advantage now: we know who's trying to kill us."

"What're we going to do?" the young sheriff asked him.

"Get the drop on them, and ask them why," Chris replied, his eyes narrowed into slits.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Back in town, Nathan escorted Ezra to the clinic, Chris and JD taking their horses to the livery.

          Vin awoke to the sound of Ezra's voice, the gambler complaining vociferously as Nathan treated and redressed his wounds.  He turned his head in their direction and opened his eyes, but instead of the darkness he'd begun to accept and grow accustomed to, he could see the two men, although it looked like he was trying to watch them though a piece of dark cloth.  He sucked in a sharp breath and saw Nathan turn to look at him.

          "Vin?" the healer called.  "What's wrong?"

          "Nothin'," the tracker said, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, trying to clear his vision more.

          "You stay put, I'll be right back," Nathan told Ezra and the gambler nodded, too busy watching the tracker to worry about what the healer might have in store for him next.

          Nathan walked over and sat down on the edge of Vin's bed, asking, "Yo'r head hurtin' ya?"

          "Not too much," Vin said, looking up at the black man and blinking.  He grinned.  "I c'n see y', Nate.  Not real good, but I c'n see ya."

          Nathan expression shifted from worried to exuberant.  "Damn, that's good news, Vin!"  He snaked an arm around the tracker's shoulders to give him a quick but heartfelt hug.  "You just stay quiet and rest some mo' and maybe it'll be back to normal in a day or so."

          Vin nodded carefully, almost afraid to move for fear the blindness might return, but he was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in several days.  "Go get the others," he told Nathan, "but don't tell 'em 'bout m' eyes."

          "Why?" Nathan asked him.

          "Don't want t' ruin m' surprise."

          Nathan patted the man's back and stood.  "I'll just finish up with Ezra here, then I'll go fetch 'em fo' ya."

          Vin leaned back carefully, the excitement coursing through him.  He could just imagine what Chris was going to say….

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ezra never left the clinic, content to sit back and bask in the good news until the others arrived.  Josiah and Buck got there first, both moving slower than usual.  Chris, JD, and Nathan were only a few minutes behind their injured friends.

          "You wanted to see us, Vin?" JD asked the tracker, who was sitting up in bed, leaning back against his pillows.

          Tanner nodded, his gaze sweeping across the men.  His vision was still dark and blurry, but it was slowly clearing.  "Wanted t' see all yer ugly faces again," he said softly, "but I didn't think I ever would."  He flashed them a brilliant smile.  "Guess I's wrong."

          There was a deep silence as his words sank in, only broken when Buck whooped so loudly that Vin expected the roof to rise.  "You can see again?" he asked the tracker.

          Vin nodded, meeting and holding the ladies' man's eyes.  "Still a mite off, but it's gettin' better pretty steady-like."

          Chris and Josiah let out shaky sighs, Larabee moving to the tracker's bedside and looking down at him, smiling.  "Best damn news I've heard in a long, long, time, pard," he said softly.  He wanted to lean over and kiss the tracker, but that was impossible.

          Vin nodded, holding the man's gaze and also wishing that he could take Chris's hand and pull him down into a deep kiss.  "But I didn't ask Nathan t' fetch y' just fer a little good news.  I want t' talk t' y'all 'bout catchin' the ones who's huntin' us.  Layin' here with nothing better t' do, I come up with an idea…"  Tanner laid out his plan, the others listening until he was through.

Chris was the first to react.  "No."

          "Damn it, Larabee, it'll work," Tanner snapped back.

          "It might, but I'm not going to risk–"

          "M' life's mine t' risk however I see fit," Tanner interrupted him.  "These boys 've been huntin' us an' I'm damn tired of it.  It's time fer us t' do some huntin' of our own."

          "Vin–"

          "We'll make sure nothin' happens to him, Chris," Buck said softly.

          Chris shot his old friend an annoyed glare.  "You can't be sure we can do that."

          "It's a good bet," Vin argued.

"Indeed," Ezra agreed.  "Gentlemen, we have the proverbial ace in the hole, but it has no value if we don't play it."

"Ace in the hole?" Chris snarled at the gambler.  "Bait's a better description."

"Don't matter what y' call it," Vin said, his tone hard, determined.  "It's got t' be done."

Larabee sighed heavily, knowing Vin would do whatever the hell he wanted to do, whatever he thought would protect them the best, no matter what the gunslinger had to say about it.  And the Ellerbys were just boys.

"All right," Chris relented, glancing around at the others, "but I want someone watching his back the whole time."

The others all nodded their agreement.

Chris glanced at the man, catching his eyes and reveling in the fact that Vin could see him, even if he wanted to flatten the tracker for deciding to risk his life to keep the rest of them safe.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **That night**

          Nathan escorted Ezra back to the saloon.  The two brothers were seated at a table, playing poker with a couple of the townsfolk.  The two peacekeepers took a table nearby.

Inez hurried over to them, fussing over Ezra for a moment, and then heading off to bring him a whiskey, "For the pain."

          "So, the truth, Mr. Jackson, how is Mr. Tanner faring?" Ezra asked once they were settled.  From the corner of his eye the gambler could see Sam sit up a little straighter as he listened to the conversation.

          Nathan shook his head sadly.  "I was hopin' his sight would come back by now, but it's not lookin' like that's gonna happen."

          Ezra shook his head.  "A shame…  A real shame.  I can't imagine what he must be feeling."

          "I'm thinkin' he might just try t' slip out 'a town on us."

          "Whatever for?  And where in the world would he go?"

          "Into the desert…" Nathan said, letting his words trail off.

          "To end it all," Ezra added after a slight pause.  "Probably with a bullet to his head, I'd imagine."

          Nathan nodded and, at the next table, Sam and Glen exchanged what could only be described as a victorious glance.

          "Ya know that horse 'a his," Nathan continued.  "Point him in a direction and he'll find his own path."

          "That would be a tragedy," Ezra said, his tone sincere.  "A real tragedy."

          "Yeah," Nathan agreed, nodding, "but I don't reckon there's much we can do t' stop him.  I can't keep him up there in the clinic forever."

          "No, I don't suppose you can," the gambler agreed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **The next morning**

          "He's a good as dead, Caleb," Sam argued with the older boy in his and Sam's hotel room.  "Ya blinded him.  They're sayin' he's ready t' ride off and shoot hisself."

          "Too easy," Caleb replied, a predatory gleam in his eyes.  "I want t' kill him myself."

          "Ya had yer chance, but ya missed," Glen mumbled, looking unhappy.

          Caleb spun and slapped the younger man across the side of his head and face.  "You didn't do any better when you clubbed that randy cowboy, did you?" he hissed hotly.

          Glen flinched and skittered back several steps, whining, "I hit him as hard as I could!  Ain't my fault it weren't enough t' kill him, Caleb."

          "Then whose was it?" the man demanded, then whirled on Sam, growling, "And I told ya to _shoot_ that preacher while he was hangin' up there."

          "Hell, Caleb, I didn't want t' bring the whole town down on me," the older of the two brothers argued.  "Figured the fall would kill him just as good."

          "But it didn't, did it?"

          "Well, you didn't kill that gambler neither," Glen snapped at Quince.  "So don't be chewin' on our hides; ya ain't done none better 'n us."

          "That's going to change, right now," Caleb hissed.  "You're both goin' to go wait in the livery and take Tanner down when he comes for his horse.  I'm going after Larabee.  They're the two I want.  They're the ones who killed my brother and put Ma in prison."

          "Then we can leave?" Glen asked him hopefully.

          "After _you_ take care of that gambler _and_ the preacher," Caleb said.  "Just shoot 'em while they're playin' poker and get the hell out of town."

          Sam's eyes rounded.  "Caleb, you gone plum loco?  Ya want Glen t' shoot them men in the saloon?  In front of everybody?"

          "He'll do it!" Caleb snapped as he turned and pinned Glen with a deadly glare.  "Or I'll shoot _him_.  And you get that proddy cowboy and the sheriff."

"What?" Sam demanded.

"I figure these folks 'round here need that darkie," Caleb continued as if he hadn't heard a word Sam had said.  "He's the only doctor they got in this town, so I'm gonna let him live."

          "Caleb, ya want Sam to shoot JD?" Glen asked, his eyes round with surprise.

          "You heard me, damn it!  And you'll both do what yer told, or I'll kill the both of you myself, ya hear me?"

The brothers both nodded, but they looked far from convinced.  Caleb turned and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

"We gonna do what he says, Sam?"

The older Ellerby shook his head.  "We'll take care of Tanner fer 'im."  Sam flashed his brother a grin.  "Hell, how hard can it be t' kill a blind man?  But then we're gettin' out of here.  If Caleb wants the rest of 'em dead, he can do it hisself."

"But you heard what he said," Glen worried.  "He'll kill us if we don't do it."

"Naw, he's just talkin'," Sam said as confidently as he could.

"Ya sure?" Glen asked him.

"I'm sure we'll end up dead ourselves if we try an' shoot them regulators in broad daylight."

"We could tell JD…"

"Damn, Glen, ya gone loco, too?" Sam snapped at his brother.  "We done tried to kill two of them men!  We'll go t' prison we tell that kid sheriff we done that."

"Better 'n endin' up dead when Caleb finds out we didn't do what he told us to do.  That crazy mama 'a his will tell him to shoot us, you don't see if she won't."

"I'll take care of Caleb," Sam said, frowning.  "Now, come on, we better get over t' the livery and find us a place t' hide.  We'll take care of Tanner and then we'll leave.  Hell, maybe we'll just head right on up t' Wickenberg and disappear.  Caleb ain't gonna come lookin' fer us.  He'll stay right here and get hisself killed tryin' t' take down the rest of these men."

"Hope yer right," Glen said, briefly considering going to JD by himself, but he couldn't do that to his brother.  Sam had always taken care of him.  He couldn't go against him, but he regretted that fact more than he expected.  He liked JD and he liked JD's friends, too.  They were more than friends, they were family.  And they seemed closer than brothers.  He just wished he'd found men like that himself.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **Later that same day**

          It was nearing dusk when Nathan led Vin down to the livery and then over to the stall where Peso waited.  The big black gelding nickered softly and tossed his head when he saw Tanner.

          "Ya sure you want me to leave ya alone with that horse?" Nathan asked him.  "He's apt t' bite yo'r hand off, just for spite."

          "I'll be all right," Vin said, his hands held out in front of him, groping, until he touched the gelding's neck.  "Just need some time alone."

          Nathan sighed, but said, "All right.  You have Tiny give me a holler when you're ready to come back up."

          "Thanks, Nate," Vin said.

          The healer stood for a moment, watching the tracker, then he turned and left, shaking his head sadly.

          Vin felt his way along the stall until he reached the latch.  He was about to open it when he heard the voice.

          "Turn around, mister."

          Vin turned slowly.  He didn't recognize the man he was facing, and tried to focus his gaze on a point somewhere between them so it wouldn't be obvious he could see again.  "What c'n I do fer ya?" he asked the stranger.

          "We come t' kill ya," the young man replied, then gestured and another boy stepped out from the shadows

          "Mind tellin' me why?" Vin asked them, knowing they must be the two brothers JD had told them about.

          "Ya killed the brother of a friend 'a ours."

          "Killed a lot of men," Vin said matter-of-factly.  "Which one in particular brung y' here?"

          "Sheriff Joshua Quince, from over Jericho way," the younger of the two boys supplied, but he didn't sound like he wanted to be there.

          Vin nodded.  "I remember him.  He was workin' with that crooked warden, blackmailin' innocent men int' payin' a ransom t' get out 'a prison."

          "Ya killed Joshua, an' ya sent his ma t' prison," the older boy said.  "She's dyin' in there."

          Vin offered a shrug, saying, "I'd say they got what they deserved.  Y' ever see the inside 'a that prison?"

          "Come on, Glen," Sam said softly, "let's just kill 'im 'n' get it over with."

          Glen glanced from Vin to his brother and back again, saying, "I don't know, Sam.  Don't seem right, shootin' a blind man…"

          "Give me a gun if it'll make y' feel better," Vin suggested.

          Sam glanced over at Glen, who nodded.  The older boy huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, but he stepped forward, intending to hand the tracker one of his two revolvers.  But as soon as he was within reach, Vin's arms shot out, grabbing the boy and turning him around, one of Tanner's arms slipping around Sam's neck to hold him tightly to his chest.

          "Drop the gun, kid," Vin hissed, looking Glen straight in the eye.

          The boy gasped.  "You can see!"

          "Yep, no thanks t' you and yer friend.  Now, put that gun down b'fore I have t' kill ya."

          "Do it," Sam snapped.

Glen hesitated for a moment, but then he sighed heavily and dropped his gun.

          "Now you," Vin rasped, giving the older boy's neck a squeeze.  "Nice 'n' slow or you'll be seein' Joshua Quince sooner 'n y' thought."

          Sam reached down and pulled his other gun from his holster, letting both weapons fall to the ground.

          Josiah, Chris, and JD stepped out from where they had been watching and waiting.  JD scowled hotly at Glen as he said, "Good thing you listened to Vin, otherwise I would've shot ya myself."

          "JD," Glen whined, "I didn't want t' do this, but Caleb said he'd kill us both if we didn't help him get the men responsible fer killin' his brother and puttin' his ma in prison.  That's the truth!"

          "Where's this Caleb now?" Chris growled, stepping right up to Glen, his drawn Colt pressing up under the boy's throat.  He glared down into the young man's eyes and watched him start to shake.  A moment later the acrid odor of urine filled the air.

          "He's lookin' for you," the boy choked out, his throat tight with fear.  "He wants t' kill ya himself.  We was supposed t' take care of Tanner and his gang."

          "His gang?" JD echoed.

          "All the men ridin' with Tanner when he come lookin' for Larabee," Glen said.  "The preacher, you, the gambler, and that horny cowboy.  All of ya except the darkie.  Caleb's gonna let him live."

          "How generous of him," Josiah muttered, stepping forward to take Sam from Vin, who swayed slightly and leaned back against the stall for support as his strength deserted him.

          "What do we do now?" JD asked Chris.

          "We find Caleb and put an end to this, right now," was the matter-of-fact reply.  He glanced over at Vin, saying, "I'll wait here with Vin until you can send Nathan down."

"Then what?" Vin asked the gunslinger.

"Then I'm gonna give Caleb Quince what he wants – a shot at me."

"Y' watch yer back, Cowboy," the tracker said softly, his tone of voice and the look in his eyes telling Larabee quite plainly that Vin didn't want to lose the man now.

          Josiah and JD took the two brothers and started for the jail, but as soon as they stepped outside, two shots rang out and both boys fell into the dusty street.

The two peacekeepers dove back into the livery, Josiah yelling at Vin and Chris to get down.

The tracker and the gunslinger dropped into crouches and made their way to join their friends just inside the large doors.

"Must be Caleb," JD said, his gun drawn, his gaze sweeping the rooftops.

"Or some 'a his friends," Vin agreed.

          "Like the ones who have been burning down the barns?" Josiah asked the tracker.

          Vin shot him a grin.  "Came t' the same thought m'self."

          "What?" JD asked them, confused by the exchange.

          "The ranchers haven't been burning down those barns," Chris explained.  "It was Caleb, or men Caleb hired."

          "He needed a way to get us out in the open," JD said, seeing what the others meant.

          "He wanted us all dead," Vin said, adding, "but it's me and Chris he wants most."

          "Then I guess we better give him what he wants," Larabee replied.

          But before they could act another shot rang out, this one punching though the wall of the livery.

          JD jerked and yelped, his hands immediately grabbing at his bleeding leg.

          "Damn it," Chris hissed.  He looked up, meeting Josiah's eyes.  "Take him out the back and get him over to Nathan's."  Then he looked at Vin, asking, "Think you can ride?"

          Tanner nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Two black horses burst out of the livery, the men on their backs bent low over the animals' necks.  Across the street, a man stood on the roof and fired, but a shot from the clinic brought him down.

          More shots rang out, from rooftops and from the street.

          Chris and Vin rode hard, drawing fire and exposing the would-be assassins, the other peacekeepers picking them off, one by one.

          When it was over, Nathan checked all the bodies.  Only Glen Ellerby was still alive, and he was dying from a bullet deep lodged deep within his chest.

The healer held him in a sitting position as Glen's gaze swept over the scene.  The young man shook his head.  Caleb Quince was not among the dead, all of whom were really no more than boys themselves.

"He won't give up," Glen wheezed, looking at Chris and Vin.  "He'll see his ma… an' she'll have 'nother plan for him… he'll be… back."  The boy's head dropped back and his last breath rattled from his chest.

Nathan laid the boy back down and stood.  "Got t' go finish with JD," he said.

Larabee nodded.  "We'll take care of the bodies."  He glanced up and down the street, a faint tickle on the back of his neck telling him the kid had spoken the truth.  Caleb Quince would be back and, until he was dead, both he and Vin, and the others, were in still in danger.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **That night**

          For the first time in days Vin shared a meal with the other peacekeepers in the saloon.  His vision was still blurry, but he could tell it was improving steadily and hoped it would be back to normal by the morning.  But it was already good enough that he could tell Inez was a little teary-eyed when she set a plate of food in front of him, her hand brushing lightly over his shoulder.  He dipped his head and gave her a small smile of thanks.  If things were different between him and Chris he might have courted the beautiful young woman, but as it was, he was happy with his life, and she seemed to know it.

          He glanced across the table at Larabee, letting the hunger he felt for the man show ever so briefly in his eyes, and thought he saw Chris's cheeks turn a little pink, but he couldn't be sure, his vision still too blurry for him to be certain.  Still, he could make out enough to know the older man had understood his meaning.

          The conversation was sparse, all of the men tired and sad about the waste of life they had witnessed recently.  Not to mention that most of them were also hurting from their injuries.

          When they were all finished, and each of the men leaning back, working on their last cups of coffee, Nathan broke the companionable silence, saying, "JD, I want ya to spend the night in the clinic."

          The young man's expression folded into a mask of mournful pleading.  "Ah, Nathan, I'm all right, I–"

          "You heard the man." Buck growled at him.

          Nathan nodded.  "Might build a fever overnight."  He glanced across at the tracker.  "Figure ya ought t' come on back, too, Vin."

          Tanner scowled, but before he could say anything Chris spoke up.  "Vin can stay in my room for tonight.  I'll keep an eye on him, make sure he don't get too restless 'til ya say he can."

          Tanner shot the man a feisty scowl, but Nathan nodded.  "Make sure he gets some rest.  He don't need to be movin' 'round too much 'til them eyes are back to normal."

          Larabee nodded his agreement.

          "And I'll stay with the kid, Nate," Buck offered.  "You see to Josiah and Ezra."

          "I'm doin' fine," Sanchez said at the same time as Ezra assured them, "I am perfectly fine, gentlemen."

          Nathan thought for a moment.  "Ought to be enough room in Ezra's feather bed for him and Josiah.  They can keep a watch on each other.  I'm gonna be at the clinic, with JD _and_ you."

          The four men didn't look too happy about the arrangements, but they all knew there was no use arguing.  The decision had been made, and Nathan wasn't going to be budged.

          The sun had set less than an hour ago but the seven men began to drift off, Josiah and Ezra heading up the stairs to Standish's rooms, Nathan escorting Buck and JD over to the clinic, and Chris and Vin meandering down to Tanner's wagon so the tracker could grab his bedroll before they started for the boarding house.

          The two peacekeepers paused on the boardwalk in front of the building, Larabee pulling out a cheroot to enjoy a smoke before heading up to bed.  They took seats in two of the chairs Mrs. Miller, the new proprietress, had taken to setting out for them, having seen how they preferred to sit outside, be it in front of the saloon, the jail, or now, the boarding house.  It also cut down on trouble, she quickly realized, and made it easier for her to ensure that all of her boarders paid their bills on time.

          There was no need for words, both men content to simply enjoy each other's company in the gathering darkness.  Tiny came along, lighting the street fires, and he stopped just long enough to ask after Vin's health before moving on to continue his work.

When the livery owner was gone, Vin leaned back in his chair and studied the profile of the man he'd come to love, illuminated by the cherry glow of his cheroot.  The thrill he felt at being able to see that face again made his entire body tingle, and he felt a slight surge of impatience, wanting the man to hurry so they could head up to Larabee's room.

          And Chris apparently picked up on his eagerness to get upstairs, or felt it himself, because he pinched off the tip of his smoke before it was even half finished, stepping off the boardwalk to grind the smoldering tobacco into the dirt before tucking the remainder of the cheroot into his shirt pocket.

Vin grinned and reached down, grabbing his bedroll.  They headed inside, climbing the stairs, and walking down to Larabee's room without seeing anyone else.

Chris opened the door, letting Vin step into the room first, then he entered and closed the door, making sure he locked it as well.  He grinned when Tanner tossed his bedroll into the corner of the room and then started pulling off his clothes.

Without a word, he walked over to the bed and began to do the same.  When he was naked, he walked over to his dresser, filling the two glasses setting there with a little whiskey from the bottle next to them.  He returned to the bed and handed one of the glasses to Vin.

Tanner sipped at his drink, letting the warmth from the whiskey spread through his body, banking his fervor enough to allow him to relax.  Larabee lit the lamp on the bedside table, then picked up his drink and downed it quickly, the light allowing Vin to watch the blond's throat moving in a single ripple.

Chris set the empty glass down next to the lamp and sat down on the bed.  Reaching out, he took Vin's glass from his hand and put it on the bedside table next to his empty glass.  Then, he reached out and put his hand on top of Vin's before moving it up the tracker's arm.  He shifted until he was between Tanner's legs, pushing him back onto the bed.

Vin's skin was warm, as though he'd just come out of the sun and he paused, staring down at the tracker.  Vin Tanner was all light to him, but the man seemed to prefer the shadows.  Understandable, given the price on his head, but it seemed wrong to the gunslinger.  Vin was a child of light, and he hoped that one day Vin would be able to live as he should be able to live – in the sunlight.

The tracker felt Larabee's flesh come together with his, the hairs on the blond's torso rasping along his own.  He was pinned beneath the blond, the weight of the man's body heavy and delicious.  When Chris leaned down to kiss him, he parted his lips and drew the man's tongue into his mouth, sucking on the tip.  Larabee's mouth tasted of whiskey and tobacco, thick and strong, and he sucked gently on Larabee's lips, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the intoxicating taste.

Running his hands down Chris's back, Vin let his fingers play over the bones of his spine.  The blond's muscles moved against his palms in response, pushing against them in slow waves.  When Tanner reached the soft indentation at the top of Chris's ass, he paused, then slid his hands down farther, filling them with the sweet mounds of Larabee's ass cheeks.

Moving around his waist, Vin sank his fingers deep into Larabee's crotch.  The blond's cock was half-hard, falling into his fingers heavily, followed by his fat balls.  He held the cock tightly as Chris continued to kiss him, enjoying the heat it gave off in his hand.  Vin moaned softly and reluctantly let go when the blond pulled back slightly.

Chris knelt over him, his hands on either side of Tanner's head.  The tracker watched the man's cock as it swung, grazing along Vin's stomach, swayed as the blond rocked slightly on the bed.  The head was fat and round, the shaft thick, and Larabee's balls hung down behind his cock like a bag of gold hefted by an unseen hand.

Vin ran his hands over the man's chest, through his thick hair, then he sagged back onto the bed, closing his eyes and letting his senses take over.  He could feel Chris on top of him, the comforting strength of his thighs around his sides, the heaviness of his cock, pressing against him.  It made him feel safe, and loved.

He opened his eyes.  The light from the lamp crept up Larabee's face, turning him into a strange vision haloed with gold.  The man was flooded with soft tongues of light that darted and played over his face, shoulders, and hair.  It was breathtaking.

One of Chris's hands went behind Vin's neck, and he started to kiss the tracker again.  As he did, he thrust himself along Vin's stomach, the heat from his cock burning into the younger man.

Wrapping his leg around Larabee's, Vin pushed hard against him, feeling the muscles of the blond's ass pumping as he moved.

Larabee's hands were tangled in Vin's hair, the blond's tongue exploring the tracker's mouth, insistent and hard.

When Chris dropped and rolled onto his back, Vin was pulled along with him, and ended up lying between Larabee's legs.  Looking down, he saw that the man's cock was still only half-hard.

Sliding down, he took the head between his lips.  As he sucked softly at it, thick beads of sweet juice poured from the small lips.  The taste of Larabee's cock filled his throat and Vin took it whole into his mouth.  His face pressed tightly against Chris's groin as he fed on him, his tongue working the length, urging his cock to life.

Chris's cock filled and swelled, becoming straight and thick.  Vin licked the length of it.  He loved the way the landscape of the man's member changed as he traveled over it, like he was tracking some essence of Larabee's soul…  The softness of the head narrowing into the rock-hard shaft… the vein beneath the skin pulsing as he moved along it until his tongue felt rough hair and his lips filled with the musky hair of Chris's crotch.

          Larabee wrapped his hand around his balls and pulled up on them until they were right under Vin's nose.  He rubbed the furry sac over Tanner's lips, and the tracker licked at the heavy contents.  Then, taking one smooth ball into his mouth, he sucked gently.  Chris moaned and began to stroke his cock.  He pulled his legs up so Tanner had more room to move.

          And, as he did, his hips shifted forward and his ass cheeks parted slightly beneath his balls.  The area between his cock and his ass was rich with hair that trickled into his crack.  Seeing it exposed like that ignited something inside the tracker, and Vin pressed his mouth against it hungrily, his tongue licking eagerly.  Moving lower, he explored the valley between Chris's cheeks, tasting the rich musk of the man's skin.

          The blond's hands moved, his fingers pulling his ass cheeks apart as though he were breaking a piece of thick, warm bread.  His hole, wrinkled and surrounded by hair, lay between the mounds of flesh.  Vin dove into it, the scent of Chris's body mingling with the small of leather on his skin.  His tongue worked across the hot skin of his hole, tracing the folds.  The hair of Larabee's legs brushed lightly on his cheeks.

          As Vin worked, he could feel the rise and fall of Chris's balls and knew the man was jerking off.  He was moaning softly, too, his hips thrusting heatedly against the tracker's face.

          "I'm close," he gasped raggedly, "I–  Oh, shit–"

          Tanner looked up from between Chris's legs just in time to see a geyser of white erupt from the man's cock.  It splattered onto his chest, and kept doing so until his chest and belly was covered with it.  The fingers wrapped around his cock were coated in sticky strings, and the shaft was slick with it.  In the low light of the lamp, the pools of come shone like gold.

          Vin took Larabee's hand and licked the come from his fingers, taking each into his mouth and sucking it clean.  The man's flesh was still hot from stroking his prod, and the tracker could taste the combined flavors of come, sweat, leather and tobacco on his skin.  He moved on to Chris's still-hard cock, washing every inch before licking the puddles of come from his body.

          As he licked up the heady smears from the blond's torso, Chris rubbed his cock against Vin's dangling one, pushing the big head along it until he slipped into the tracker's ass crack.  That, combined with the fact that Tanner had a belly full of seed, was almost enough to make the younger man shoot his own load right then.

          "Want y' t' make love t' me," he whispered into Larabee's ear.

          Chris smiled.  "I plan on it, stud.  But first I've got some work to do…"

          Rolling Vin over, Chris knelt between the man's legs and started to pump the tracker's cock steadily.

Tanner was already worked up and he was worried that he was going to burst before Larabee could fill his ass the way he wanted him to.  But whenever he got close to losing control, Chris seemed to know and he would slow down until Tanner's need died off enough for him to resume the hand job.

The tracker groaned softly, his head tossing from side to side.

The Chris's lips closed over the tip of Vin's cock and the tracker slipped into the man's throat like a stone sinking into a pond.  Larabee's mouth was warm, and as he sucked Vin's cock the tracker felt every movement of the blond's mouth along his shaft.  He arched his back, rising up to meet Chris's downward strokes, fucking the man's handsome face.

He reached up, his hand on Larabee's head, encouraging him to speed his strokes.  But Chris ignored the prompt, sliding up and down Vin's cock steadily, drawing rivers of pleasure from the tracker's near-bursting balls without giving him the release he so desperately craved.

          While he continued to work on Vin's cock, Chris pressed a fingertip against the opening of the younger man's ass.  Rubbing in tiny circles, he loosened it up until he could slide in an inch or two.

Tanner's muscles immediately clamped greedily around his finger, urging him deeper, but he continued to work only on the entrance to his chute, fucking him in time with the path his mouth took along his cock.

          Then, slowly, he began to work his finger into Vin, pushing it in farther every time he swallowed the tracker.

Tanner thought he was going to cry out from the exquisite feelings Chris was coaxing from him.  Finally, he felt Larabee's knuckles scrape against his ass cheeks and knew that he was all the way in.  Chris waited for a few seconds, then pulled out and started all over again with two fingers.

          When Larabee had three fingers buried inside Vin's aching hole, the tracker felt as though his balls were going to explode from the force of the pleasure churning inside them.  He rocked his ass back and forth on Larabee's hand, moaning and begging the man to take him.  Tanner's cock was so hard he was sure it would shatter like glass if Chris touched it again.

          Then Larabee's hand was gone.  Vin barely had a second to catch his breath before Chris had his legs over his shoulders and his cock was pounding its way into his ass.  He could feel himself stretching as Chris's thick shaft pushed deep inside him and he took several quick breaths, overcome by the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that flooded through him.  Every nerve in his body seemed centered on the point where Chris's cock was burrowing into him.

          Tanner's legs were flat against Chris's strong chest, rising and falling with his even breathing as Larabee made love to him, easing his cock back and forth in steady rhythm.  Vin closed his eyes, the sound of that sliding cock filling his head.

          The harder Larabee pumped his ass, the stronger the feelings flowed through Vin and he started to stroke his cock in time with him until the movements of his hand became an extension of Chris's thrusts.  Larabee had his hands around the tracker's ankles and held his legs apart so he could watch his cock disappear into that welcoming hole.  His face glowed with sweat, and in the light from the lamp it turned him gold and red as he gazed down at Vin from between the tracker's thighs.

          It seemed to both men that they fucked for hours, Larabee's hard cock never ceasing its back and forth motions.  It felt to Vin as though the whole room were filled with him, the smell of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands.  They had built a world of warmth and light within the darkness, and there they could make love forever.

          Chris's thrusting was speeding up, and Vin saw the muscles of his neck tense as he tried to hold off the force that was clamoring for release within him.  His head went back and he pumped the tracker three more times before sinking in all the way and letting out a soft roar, filling Vin with sweet streams of his seed.

          As Larabee filled his ass, Vin came in a great shivering spurt that exploded onto the air and splattered his face and neck in a thick rain.  Three times he came, each one sending a fresh burst over his sticky body.

          Larabee collapsed on top of Vin, resting there for a moment, and then rolling off the tracker and collapsing next to Tanner.  They lay there, gasping for air, their bodies coursing with the echoes of their release.

          When they had recovered, Larabee got up and crossed to the dresser, pouring water into his wash bowl and then dipping in a cloth and cleaning himself off.  When he was done, he carried a fresh, damp cloth over to the tracker and cleaned him as well.  Then he returned to the bedside, reached down and picked up what was left of Tanner's drink and swallowed it in a single gulp.  He set the glass down and turned off the lamp as Vin climbed off the bed and turned back the covers.

The two men climbed into the bed, Chris's arms around the younger man.  Vin stared out into the darkness, but he was no longer afraid of it.  He knew now that his vision would return.  And, more importantly, he knew that if it didn't, he still had a place here, at this man's side.

That was more than he'd ever dared dream possible and the truth of it humbled him.  He'd done nothing to earn or deserve that kind of love, but he knew with certainty that he had it nonetheless.

And friendship, too, he knew, thinking about Josiah and the others.  He smiled and snuggled closer.

"Cold?" Chris asked softly.

"Naw," Vin replied, "just happy."  He felt rather than saw Larabee smile in the darkness.

"Me, too," Chris said softly.  "And I never expected to be able to say that…  Vin…"

"Yeah?"

"You know…  I can't lose you, too."

"Ain't got t' worry 'bout it," Vin assured the man, rubbing his hand over the blond's chest.  "Ain't plannin' on goin' anywhere without ya."

"Glad to hear that," Chris replied.  "Because if you ever do, I'll track you down."

"I'm countin' on that, Cowboy."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 **The next morning**

          Nathan and Chris looked up as the others entered the saloon, slowly making their way over to the table to sit down.  Josiah stretched his still-healing leg out and sighed.  Buck rubbed at his temples, grunting softly.  Ezra and JD eased themselves down, careful not to jar their wounds too much.  And Vin slipped into his chair, glancing around at the nearly empty room like he was seeing it for the first time, and it looked a whole lot better than it really did.

          "How y'all feelin'?" Nathan asked them, then waited to hear from each of the men in turn, but the result was the same – they were alive and healing, and that was all that really mattered for the moment.

          Inez brought them several platters of food, and a pot of coffee, then left them to enjoy their meal in peace.

Once they were done, Ezra shifted to another table, waiting for his first victim of the day.  JD headed off to the sheriff's office, Buck tagging along behind him, demanding a rematch at checkers.  Josiah and Nathan left for the church, the healer having agreed to finish whitewashing the bell tower while Josiah worked on the last of the new windowsills.

          Chris and Vin remained at the table for a few more minutes, then headed outside to take seats in a pair of chairs waiting for them on the boardwalk.  Inez made sure the two chairs went out first thing in the morning when she opened the doors to the saloon, and the two men had made regular use of them ever since she'd done it the first time.

          They passed several minutes in companionable silence before Vin finally said, "Been ponderin' on that question y' asked me a couple days back."

          Chris glanced over at the tracker, noting the serious expression on Tanner's face.  He looked back out at the street and asked softly, "Come up with an answer?"

          "Reckon so."

          "And?"

          Vin sighed softly and dipped his head, hiding his face under the brim of his hat.  "If things had worked out different, an' you'd been the one who was blind…  Ah hell, I couldn't've let y' ride out t' die alone any more 'n you could let me.  Would've wanted t' do whatever I could t' help y' find a way t' make livin' mean something… livin' with me, that is."

          Chris nodded, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  "I did some thinking about it, too."

"Y' did?" Vin asked him, grinning back at him.

The humor left the gunslinger's face as he said, "If things had been reversed…  Think I would've wanted to do exactly what you wanted."

          Vin lifted his head, a small smile on his lips.  He met and held Larabee's eyes, a silent and perfect understanding passing between the two men.  Having faced their fears, they had both come to the same conclusion: together, they could face anything, and together they would face whatever the future held in store for them, no matter what it might be.

          "The time ever comes," Vin said softly, "'s good t' know there's friends y' c'n count on… t' do what's right an' t' honor yer choices…  If y' have t' make 'em."

          Chris nodded.  "Yep, it is a comfort."

          "Better comfort t' know y' got someone there who makes them choices mean little more than smoke on a stiff breeze…  Y' know what I mean?"

          The small smile returned to Larabee's lips.  "Yep, reckon I do."

          "Think he'll be back?"

          "Quince?" Chris asked him.

          Vin nodded.

          "I'd bet on it."

          Vin nodded again.

          After several minutes passed, the blond said, "Been thinkin' I'd head out to the shack for a couple of days…  Don't think anybody's notice if ya decided to come along."

          Tanner smiled and leaned back in his chair.  "Could do with a couple 'a days away from the town."

          "Thought maybe ya could."

          Vin sighed contentedly, knowing what those two days would be like.  He doubted they'd see much besides the inside of the small cabin, but that suited him just fine.

          The two men settled back, watching as Four Corners slowly woke to begin another day.

 

 

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[1]  **Authors' Note** : Vin's injury is based on an actual event that happened to a of mine cousin when he was grazed by a bullet (left side of the head, just above his ear) while serving in Vietnam in 1969.  The force of the shot knocked him down and he struck the back of his head on a tree root.  He experienced a profound blindness for a little less than 18 hours before his vision began to clear, returning to "normal" within 36 hours.  I've taken a few liberties with that timing in this story.  A doctor called the injury "cortical blindness," which a medical dictionary tells me is an acute loss of vision following a head trauma – usually resolved within 24 hours.  It's caused by a minor, transient alteration in brain function.  Hope I haven't taken too much liberty, but it was just too good to pass up!


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